Regeneration
by Edgar-A.-Poe
Summary: About a mutant with a strange number of powers attempting to become herself again after a terrifying past, with some help from the remaining X-Men. Set after the three movies. Rated for cursing and adult situations that will come up later.
1. The X Men

**Author's Note: **This is a revamping of a previous story. To my faithful readers, thank you for being patient, as it has been rewarded with my timely-written first chapter. There will probably be another one up later on, as I'm feeling inspired. You'll notice changes to the character, but I think you'll like them. I also like where I'm going with this story more so than the other one, as this feels more my own.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything, except my personal character.

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I first heard of the attack on Alcatraz Island while sitting in a bar somewhere in Massachusetts. All of my attention was quickly devoted to the news station, though the volume was on low and the bar was noisy.

The news reporter was an Asian woman, young, pretty, articulate, the island in the background just over her shoulder. Her voice held no accent, and I imagined she would have had to practice for hours in front of the mirror in order to achieve the perfect neutral tone that comes with every news reporter, as if they're carbon-copies of one another.

"There appeared to be two different groups of mutants fighting the battle," she said, staring directly into the camera, blinking every so often. She had memorized this speech perfectly, and could not afford to ruin it, I thought. "The first was a group of mutants known as The Brotherhood, run by a mutant named Magneto, who was shot with the cure during the battle. These were the ones fighting against the guards of the island in what is thought to have been an attempt to get to the boy who is the cause for the mutation cure."

A cure? I pondered quickly to myself. I had heard briefly of it about a month or so ago, but thought it a myth. I kept my thoughts down as I continued to listen.

"The other band of mutants, known as the X-Men, are actually from the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. They were fighting on the side of the guards that night, in an attempt to save the boy who the cure was derived from, from The Brotherhood. The man known as Charles Xavier, founder of the school named for him, has recently passed, his successor being a mutant by the name of Ororo Munroe."

The camera cut to a previously recorded interview with Ororo Munroe, whose stunningly white hair contrasted with her dark skin that I was taken aback for a moment. I stared at this woman, trying to see the true her through her eyes, but that is impossible to do via television. I listened to what she had to say.

"The Xavier Institute is a place for young mutants to stay," she said, her accent only adding to my interest in her. "They come here to learn not only how to control their powers, but to get an education. This is something that might be lost to them due to various reasons. They live, eat, and learn at the school. Our goal is to help the students who come here to be able to live in the world, and to try and teach them how to deal with those who may not accept them in a way that will not cause anyone harm."

The camera cut back to the Asian reporter. I was considering what Ororo Munroe had said, thinking over her words very carefully, so that I barely heard the wrap-up the reporter was giving.

"The Xavier Institute is located in Salem Center, New York. This has been Amanda Bai, Channel 3 News."

I stared at the TV for a long time afterward, not caring if the others in the bar saw me doing so. This Ororo Munroe had been an intriguing person, and seemed to be someone I should not overlook. Perhaps paying a visit to her would prove useful. I had been alone for far too long, now, and perhaps she, or the other mutants there, would be able to help me put together my life and answer some questions.

There was a tap on my shoulder. I stiffened, my nostrils flaring. Turning slowly, there was a man standing behind me, his face clearly showing how unhappy he was.

"You were staring at that TV awful hard," he commented.

"What of it?" I growled, trying to bury myself deeper into my worn overcoat.

He studied me a moment before continuing to glower at me. "If you're a mutant sympathizer, you better get out of here right now," he told me sternly, poking my shoulder. I stiffened further, not wanting him to touch me. "This is a mutant-free area."

"Just leave me the hell alone," I said, glaring right back at him from underneath my messy hair. "I'm not botherin' anyone."

I tried to turn around, to shut him out, but he grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around to face him. His face was just an inch or two from my own when he managed to whip me around.

"Let me tell something to you!" he yelled at me.

"Don't. Touch. Me." Each word was forced through clenched teeth. I clamped my hand over his own, not using anywhere near my full strength, pulled it off my shoulder, and threw it away from me.

"I'll touch you all I want, mutant-lover," he shot back, pushing my shoulder.

I was shoved back into the bar behind me. I stayed there a moment, letting him get a chuckle in with his buddies, who had begun to crowd around me. At this point, I stood, looking down at the floor, using my peripherals to see how many there were, how bad things could get, how many of them I might have to kill, even if I didn't want to. Most were spectators, who were moving to the edges of the room. There were about five or six men before me, looking for a fight.

The original man laughed at me, my slight frame: five-foot seven-inch stature with a hundred and twenty-five pounds on it. "What's the matter, buddy, think you can win?"

They clearly thought I was a man, which is the only reason why they started a fight with me. My deeper voice had also concealed my true self from them. I kept looking to the floor.

I shrugged off my overcoat, letting it fall to the floor as I looked up into their shocked faces.

"I know I can win," I said, grinning.

At this point, a few of the men looked confused, while some were just amused. My main attacker was the latter. He continued to laugh.

"All right, girly, I'll try to go easy on you," he said, giving his buddies and exaggerated wink over his shoulder.

"I don't think you wanna start this fight," I told him, my voice neutral.

He chuckled again. "Why not? I'm not afraid of a little girl." He laughed uproariously, his buddies joining in.

Snickt!

They stopped laughing and stared at the three claws extending from the knuckles between each of my hands.

"Maybe you should learn to be afraid," I said, smirking.

It had gone completely silent in the bar, and everyone was staring. I looked around me, then back to my attacker. I stared him down, the took a step forward. The group of men standing in front of me all jumped, almost simultaneously. I smiled a bit, my teeth not showing.

Shaking my head, I bent over to pick up my overcoat, a light brown man's duster jacket I had gotten from a Goodwill. I allowed my claws to retract, then placed my arms into the sleeves, making sure it was correctly on before turning to the bartender.

"Where's the nearest bus station, barkeep?" I asked him, my tone as casual as if I had just strolled into town.

He looked at me for a minute, as if trying to assess me. I stared right back at him, looking briefly into his eyes. I saw a certain amount of kindness, of pity, in them.

"Head north for about a half-mile, then go three blocks west," he answered.

"Thanks," I said, digging into my pocket and slapping down the few dollars I owed him.

He nodded to me, scooping up the cash. Everyone stared as I turned to leave the bar.


	2. To Salem City

**Author's Note: **Here it is, your wonderful second chapter! Hope you all enjoy. ^_^

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

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**Chapter Two**

I ran my hand over my knuckles to wipe away the excess blood. I stared at the skin between my fingers, then flexed my hands a few times, still amazed every time the claws came out, even though I'd had them for well over five years now.

As I walked down the street towards the bus station the kind bar tender had directed to me, I thought back to what seemed like forever ago to me.

Shaking my head, I decided it was better to not think on those things until I was alone. I did not want to go crazy while on a bus full of people.

Finally reaching the bus station after a few more minutes, I discover that I'm in the town of Danbury, Massachusetts. It's only about eight miles to Salem Center, with the cost of a ticket being almost laughable at how cheap it is.

I paid the lady the fifteen dollars, received my ticket, then proceeded to where she instructed me. It was just me and the bus driver, an older lady who seemed to be a career bus driver. She smiled kindly at me, and I nodded politely back.

"Where you headed to, honey?" she asked.

"Salem City," I told her, taking a seat just behind her. I saw no point going any further, as the bus ride was going to take only a few minutes.

"Well, that happens to be our first stop," she said, starting up the bus. She put it into gear, and we were off.

It was quiet for a few moments, and I was content to sit in my silence, as my interaction with people had been very little over the past few years. But the bus driver would have none of this.

"I'm Irene," she told me, smiling at me from the mirror before her eyes went back to the road. "What would you like me to call you, honey?"

I smirked. "Rebecca," I said, catching her eye briefly in the mirror.

"Where you from, Rebecca?"

"Georgia."

"Ah, I caught the accent," she said. "I'm not originally from here, either. I was from Florida, but the heat got to me."

"Mhmm."

"What brings you all the way up here?"

"Meeting up with some friends," I quickly said. It wasn't completely untruthful, but she didn't need to know the whole truth.

She stayed quiet for a few more minutes. We came to a traffic light and were stopped on the red.

"You know, our town's pretty small," she remarked to me, physically turning in her seat to look at me. "Ed called to tell us you were on the way."

I stared back at her. "You mean the bartender," I said, confirming what I had already known.

She nodded. "I'll take you where you need to go, honey, don't you worry," she said, giving me a smile full of genuine kindness. I was struck by this. "Ed told Cindy, the one who sold you the ticket, what those men tried to do to you. He told us how you reacted. You're one of the good ones, aren't you?"

"I guess you could say that," I said.

She nodded. "I'll take you to that Institute Ed said you were watching on the news," she said. "I know where it is, and it's not too far out of the way. And, as you're the only one on the bus, I don't think it'll matter much."

I blinked at her, unsure of what to say. "The light's green," I said after another silent moment.

Irene quickly turned around, starting the bus on its journey forward. I stared at her in the mirror for a while, but I couldn't catch her eye. Her voice had been extreme in its sincerity, and I felt that I had just been very lucky in coming to this town.

"Irene?" I said. Her eyes flicked up at me to look in the mirror. "Thank you."

My voice had just been above a whisper, and it was all I could do not to cry. There had not been much kind treatment of me over the past few years, and it had finally struck a chord with me. I dabbed at my eye, trying to hide my emotion.

She grinned. "Aw, it's all right, honey."

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Irene dropped me off just outside of Xavier's Institute. I had managed to shake her hand as I was getting off the bus, but had been unable to bring myself to hug her. That kind of physical contact was still too much for me. I would have to remember to go back to the town of Danbury one day, hopefully to repay the kindness of these strangers somehow.

I stared at the mansion for a long time before finally taking a deep breath and walking up its sidewalk. I didn't see any children playing outside, and even when I reached the door to the mansion, the walls were thick enough that I could barely hear anyone inside. I grew a bit nervous, but took in another breath and raised my hand to knock. These people were my last chance at a new life- they were the only ones that could help me. The woman, Ororo Munroe, had seemed kind and caring, nearly nurturing. They would not cast me out.

My knuckles pounded on the door, hoping there was someone near enough to hear it. I waited, but soon I heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door, urgency in their step. It opened quickly, almost as if the person on the other side was expecting an attack as soon as it was open.

A man a few inches taller than with, nostrils flaring, eyes scanning my whole body over, looking for a threat. He was muscular, with black hair shaped oddly into two points on the top of his head, and black eyes. His eyes immediately caught my attention, and I found myself staring into them.

I caught his confusion, his temper beginning to rise.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice gruff.

I blinked, crossing my arms over my chest, coming back to reality. I really needed to learn how to interact properly with people again.

"My name is Rebecca Felan," I told him. "I came here for help. I saw Ms. Munroe on TV about an hour ago. Can I talk to her?"

I leaned to the left to get a view into the mansion, but the man moved with me, blocking my view.

"What kind've help?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

I took a step back. His presence was very commanding, almost threatening. I didn't want to fight. "I wanna get my life back," I said, giving him a pleading look. "I want to know if she can answer my questions."

He seemed to relax a bit. "So you're a mutant, then," he said, nodding. "Get in here, I'll take you to her."

He stepped aside to allow me entrance. He shoved a hand out after he had closed the door.

"Logan," he said. "Sorry about the not-so-welcome greeting, but we've had a bunch of regular people try and infiltrate."

I nodded, carefully taking his hand and shaking it for only a second before letting it go. His grip was powerful, but so was mine. The amount of strength I used to grasp his hand back caught him off guard, and he gave me a look.

"Strength?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked.

I nodded. "Along with some others…"

This man, this Logan, made me a bit uncomfortable. He was perceptive, much like I was, and was already learning a great deal about me by just staring at me. I wished he would stop staring. I pulled my coat tighter around me.

Logan must have caught my discomfort, as he did stop staring.

"Ororo should be in her office, this way," he said, nodding his head in the general direction.

He began walking that way, so I followed, leaving a few steps in between us, mostly for my own comfort. All the while, I was memorizing my surroundings, in case I needed to make a quick departure.

We reached a set of double-doors after about a thirty second walk. Logan knocked, then opened it.

"Ororo?" he said, sticking his head through the slightly opened door. "We've got a new one."

"Let them in, Logan, let them in," I heard the woman's voice say excitedly.

Logan opened the door the rest of the way, holding it open for me. I quickly skirted by him. He entered, then closed the door behind us both. I immediately looked to Ororo Munroe, who was as pretty in person as she had been on the television. She beamed at me.

"Welcome to Xavier's!" she said, holding out her hand. I took it gingerly. "My name is-"

"Ororo Munroe," I interrupted her. "I know. I saw you just an hour ago on TV. I thought you could help me."

She seemed a bit shocked, but didn't lose her stride. "Well, please, have a seat," she told me, sitting on the edge of her desk herself.

I took a chair and scooted it away from the both of them just a few more inches. Logan had take up residence in the other chair before Ororo's desk.

"She says her name is Rebecca Felan," Logan said to Ororo. The woman seemed to recognize my name at once.

"The professor mentioned her a number of times to Jean and I," she told him quickly, growing excited again. She looked to me. "Oh, Rebecca, I'm so glad you've finally come."

"You know about me?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable.

"Yeah, you know about here?" Logan echoed, his look puzzled.

"Yes, she is the one Xavier talked about to Jean, the one who was an anomaly among mutants, even!"

I stood. What did she want with me? Why was she so excited?

"Oh, Rebecca, please don't be frightened!" Ororo said, standing with me, but not reaching out for me. "The man who used to run this institute, he knew about you-"

"What's Cerebro?" I asked quickly.

She paused. Logan stared at me.

I caught the picture of it. A device that located mutants. No one could use it now that this professor was dead. I calmed a bit, but was still on full alert. I pushed my back to the wall and stayed there. Ororo did not approach me. Logan stood, but she put a hand against him, keeping him where he was.

"Rebecca, neither of us would ever dream of hurting you," Ororo told me. "I'm glad that you're finally here because the professor spoke so highly of you. He wanted to help you, but his passing…"

I nodded. "I understand," I told her.

And I did. Her mind was completely open to me now. I saw that Xavier had wanted to find me and help me, but he had grow busy with the ever-waging war. He had passed on only some of his knowledge of me to Ororo, but she knew my story.

"So you can help me?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I'll do the best I can," she told me with a smile.

I felt someone run into my shoulder, which was impossible as I was standing next to the wall. A screaming followed just as the thing, a person, hit me. I whirled around, claws flying out of my skin, my hands grabbing a shoulder, then a neck. Wrapping the person in an almost choke hold-like grasp. The girl in my arms screaming in fear, somehow getting out of my hold and running to Ororo, who caught her now sobbing frame with open arms. Logan, who had been ready to subdue me only a moment before, now stared at me with open astonishment.

As the girl who I had just been holding continued to sob, Ororo looked at Logan. "Wolverine, meet your _true_ second version," she told him.


	3. Will You Stay?

**Author's Note: **And yet another chapter. I found myself without homework to do, so I decided to pen this. Hope y'all enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Chapter Three**

The girl in Ororo's arms managed to calm down, staring at me warily. My claws were still out, and with Ororo's last words to Logan, now I was confused.

My gaze fell upon Logan, and I immediately caught his stare. With that, I felt his confusion, his eyes looking me all over, particularly at my claws. I looked into his brain. A wave of memories passed over me quickly, one right after another.

Logan, claws popping, charging mutants at Alcatraz Island. Him submerged in some sort of liquid in a cold, dark room. Him awakening, destroying the room he was in, the guards who came to try and stop him. Logan tearing up the place that contained him. His escape…

I withdrew myself from him and stepped back into the wall, suddenly coming to the realization of what Ororo had just said. This man and I, this Wolverine as she called him, had the same creator.

I heard Ororo whispering to the girl in her arms, "Run along, Kitty, everything is fine, I promise."

The girl, Kitty, wanted to protest, but Ororo gave her a stern look and patted her on the cheek as a mother would do to her child. Kitty obeyed and left the room, not bothering to use the door. She instead chose to walk right through the wall.

I saw all this out of the corners of my eyes, for I could not stop watching Logan. My claws were still out, as I was too shocked to retract them. He was not uncomfortable under my gaze, but shifted, looking down at his own hands.

Snickt!

His claws were out, and he held them up so I could look them over as well. I mimicked him. Ororo watched from beside her desk, not wanting to interrupt.

"You, too, uh?" Logan finally asked.

I nodded, swallowing to allow myself to speak. "Yeah," I managed quietly. "You were first."

Logan gave a curt nod back. "As you saw, I didn't take kindly to it."

I looked to the floor, retracting my claws finally. I cradled my hands to my chest, sinking to the floor slowly, my back against the wall.

"Neither did I," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I knew he would be able to hear me. His memories were extremely clear, much like my own. His senses were heightened, his strength, too. He and I were almost the same creature. Almost.

Logan took a step toward me, but Ororo stopped him. He gave her a puzzled look, but she pushed past him to kneel a few feet in front of me.

"Rebecca," she said. I looked up at her, and she gave me a tiny smile. "We can help you, both of us. Perhaps you can help others in return, once you feel up to it." She paused a moment, letting those thoughts sink in. "Won't you stay here with us?"

I did not answer her, but instead looked back up to Logan. "Where is William Stryker?" I asked, my voice stern and strained with withheld emotions.

Logan's eyes glazed over a bit at a memory, which he quickly tried to block from me. "Dead," he answered, never breaking my gaze.

I looked at the memory he tried to withhold. Logan tying Stryker up to a concrete block, forcing him to drown. A smile cracked onto my face.

"You killed him," I stated.

"Yes."

I chuckled, my happiness reaching my eyes. Logan watched me, unsure, taking a step back. He thought I was going crazy. Ororo knew what my reaction was about; she stayed in her place before me, waiting for the answer to her question as if she had just asked it.

I quieted myself, staring at my hands as I smiled at them, running my thumb over my knuckles again.

"Yes," I said, looking to Ororo. "I will stay."

The smile on the African woman's face was one of extreme joy, and she stood, almost unable to contain herself. "Then I'll show you to your room," she said. "I'll find you some clothes to wear after you have a shower. I can take you into town a little later so we can get you some of the essentials, too."

I nodded, rising easily from my position on the floor. I began to follow Ororo out, but stopped when I was parallel with Logan, though about a foot away from him. Ororo stopped at the door, waiting for me. I met Logan's stare for a moment.

"Thank you," I whispered, "for killing him." I paused. "Thank you."

Logan didn't have time to respond as I quickly caught up with Ororo. She closed the door behind us.


	4. The Danger Room

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** Reposted this to fix some errors I made while writing and just caught. Strange wording makes my brain explode. Enjoy. :)

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The shopping was a success, as Ororo put it. She didn't question me openly, but let me talk when I saw it fit. She let me try on the clothes I wanted without giving me opinions or any other girlish nonsense. She seemed to know me better than anyone else, to be able to pick up on my mood at any given moments.

To be honest, it was a little creepy at first.

But I remembered this professor of hers had divulged everything about me to her, in the hopes of my one day joining them. He was a smart man, this professor. I felt robbed that I could not have met him. Perhaps he could've taught me more about my powers, could've helped me stop them…

"All right, I think we're ready to return to the mansion," Ororo said with a smile, helping me carry the bags.

"Thank you," I said again, unable to meet her eye.

"You're most welcome, Rebecca," she answered without hesitation. "I just hope you choose to stay with us."

I was quiet for a long while, until we were out of the mall. Finally, I nodded just a bit.

"I think that's a possibility," I told her in a whisper.

Back at the mansion, Ororo showed me to my room and began helping me put away my things.

"Your room is right next to mine," she told me. "Logan is on the other side of me. If you need anything, don't hesitate to get either of us."

My room was very nicely sized, and even had its own bathroom. I wondered idly if all the rooms were like that, but I thought probably not. It had a smallish walk-in closet that had both room to hang up clothes and a dresser to put more in. The furnishings were a crème color to offset the deep red carpet. Overall, the effect was nice, soothing. I allowed a bit of a smile to escape.

"So, what's there to do around here?" I asked, getting the last of my new shirts hung up. I had gone out of the norm, and had bought a few clothes that were not baggy nor from the men's section. Though they were by no stretch what I imagined most girls my age would be wearing, but at least it was a start.

"Well, there are a wide variety of students here," Ororo began. "They range in ages of eight to their late teens. Many go off to college after their eighteenth birthday, but hopefully some of the older students will also stay here."

She ran her hand through her bangs to get it from her eyes.

"There's also an extensive library that the professor was very proud of," she added with a fond smile.

"I'm sorry," I said suddenly. I stopped speaking, embarrassed at having been able to see into her mind how he went… how they all went. The professor, her best friend Dr. Jean Grey, the doctor's fiancée Scott Summers. "…about how he passed. It was… unfortunate."

Ororo watched me for a moment, unblinking. I sensed I had gone too far too early, and I cringed inwardly. I could not meet her eye, but I stood rigid, ready to defend myself either verbally or physically if necessary.

"That's all right, Rebecca," she said after a few more tense, silent moments.

There was a double meaning behind this, and I nodded to show I understood.

My nostrils flared, and I looked to the door. A knock resounded on the wood a second afterward.

"Come in, Logan," I said in my normal voice, knowing he could hear me.

The door opened to reveal the man who had, inadvertently, become my savior in the killing of William Stryker. I couldn't blame him for beating me to the punch: he'd been through the same terror-filled agony that I had.

I blocked the memories from coming, my face never changing from its neutral expression.

"Tell her about the Danger Room yet, Ro?" Logan asked, leaning against the doorframe.

I raised an eyebrow and looked to the woman.

"I was getting there, but thank you for introducing it," Ororo said, slightly irritated but more amused. "The Danger Room is an area for us to practice. If you'd like, we can take you there to assess your fighting skills, and perhaps the levels of some of your powers."

I smirked. "Could be fun," I said with a shrug.

I wasn't one that would normally show off, but I hadn't flexed all of my powers in a few months, and a few of them were getting restless.

Logan, I saw, hid an amused look. My gaze passed over Ororo, wondering how much she had told Logan about me. How much she had told the others here about me…

"All right, let's go, then," Ororo said with a kind smile.

We began our trek to the Danger Room, which I assumed was located underground to accommodate for the noise and such that would probably come from there. As we made our descent, I began to let my curiosity show.

"How many students are there?"

"Just less than a hundred," Ororo answered immediately. "Most of them are younger. We have a few of the older students who were with us this past year at the Alcatraz incident, but a few of them will be leaving for college in a few months."

I nodded. "So, do any of them know I'm here yet?"

"Not as of yet. I'm sure you won't have a problem introducing yourself, though, Rebecca."

I grunted. "I'm not really a 'people-person'."

"My sentiments exactly, kid," Logan responded.

"Don't call me 'kid'," I shot back, shooting him a glare from the corner of my eye. I knew he caught it, as his muscles tensed slightly, his nostrils flared, and his body moved minutely to receive my own tiny body signals. His posture indicated he was willing to fight about it; my posture told him something similar.

Ororo looked worried.

"Logan," she said sharply.

His eyes, which had been looking me over harshly as I watched him silently from the corners of my eyes, went to her. Her eyes must have expressed more than words could ever say, as Logan immediately dropped his posture and became unperturbed. I still felt him bristling silently.

"Come on, Rebecca," Ororo continued, holding out her hand and beckoning to me.

I stepped forward, and we continued in silence for a few moments.

"So, what will I be fighting?" I asked after I felt that I had significant control over my anger. It had a tendency to get out of control on occasion, so I had been working carefully over the past few months to get it at a level that would be appropriate for human contact.

"Images," Ororo explained. "They are simulations. The Danger Room is very advanced."

"I'll say…"

She and Logan entered an elevator, then waited for me to follow. I hesitated visibly. Logan raised an eyebrow at me, then coughed out a laugh, amused. Ororo looked confused for a moment.

I crossed my arms over my chest and held them tightly, so tightly my nails began to sink into my skin. I let up a bit at the stinging sensation. I couldn't force my body to move forward, no matter how much I tried.

Ororo finally nodded. "There are some stairs on the end of the hallway," she said patiently. "We'll meet you downstairs."

I inclined my head slightly, then made my way to the stairs. I went down them quickly, beating the two of them in the elevator to the ground floor. Logan didn't look quite as smug as when the doors had closed; Ororo had probably reprimanded him. He stared at me with an open curiosity, but I knew he was still in the dark about most things about me, beside the fact that our maker was one in the same. However, either Ororo would tell him, or he would put two and two together eventually.

Ororo smiled at me, patting my shoulder (only for a second) comfortingly. I gave her the tiniest of smiles back, but it quickly disappeared.

"This is the Danger Room," she announced as we walked into a large room with a silver substance coating all of the walls. Perhaps it was a metal of some sort. I was no expert. It was rather astounding either way, with just the sheer size of the room.

"You'll be showing off your fighting abilities to us in here, Rebecca," Ororo continued. "We'll be giving you simulations that you will have to defeat." She pointed to a glass case based at the top of one of the corners of the room. "That's where the control room is; that's where we'll be."

"So, the point of this is to see if I'm fit to join the X-Men?" I asked.

She blinked at me for a moment, as if unsure how to answer.

"Yes," Logan answered instead. He looked me dead in the eyes. He was very serious now. "We're low in number now, Rebecca. If you're as powerful as Ro here thinks you are… then you'll definitely be someone we want on our side."

I nodded. These people were complicated, more so than I originally thought. They wanted me to be safe, wanted an ally, wanted me to be their friend (at least in Ororo's case), and they asked for nothing in return other than my cooperation in their tests. It was a bit confusing, and much to take in at once. But Ororo, if nothing else, I could tell was one of the few good people left in the world, much like the woman on the bus would had driven me here safely.

Perhaps there are those who deserve chances to show their goodness. Maybe I've been writing people off too quickly. But, if the time came for it, would I want to fight for these people?

I pondered that for a moment, but decided that I would cross that bridge when the time came for it. For now, I decided I was safe here, much safer than anywhere else outside of the school's walls. And what could flexing my muscles and powers just a little hurt?

After a few moments of complete silence in the room, I shrugged off my jacket, exposing a white t-shirt. I flicked off the flip-flops I was wearing, allowing the flowing, comfortable black pants I had picked out at the store earlier that day to touch the ground.

"Bring it on," I said, a smirk on my face.

Ororo gave me a grin and picked up my things. She and Logan walked out of the room, and I was left alone in the Danger Room, awaiting my first simulation.


	5. Logan

**Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note: **Decided to switch it up a bit and give this a different point of view this chapter. I'm thinking about doing this every so often, just so you get another view on things. Then again, if I'm not inspired to, I won't. Hope you enjoy. ^_^

* * *

We descended quietly to the control room of the Danger Room. I could tell Ororo was pissed at me for poking fun at the kid, but what did she expect from me. The girl, Rebecca, was acting strangely. It was throwing me off. Ro was being very secretive about the kid, too; wouldn't directly answer my questions, would leave things out, and would ignore me altogether sometimes. It bothered me.

We settled inside the room, and Ororo started up the computer that ran everything. She got on the system that allowed her to speak to Rebecca.

"Just give the simulator a few moments to boot up, Rebecca," she said. I saw the kid nod from the one-way mirror.

With the speaker system off, Ro looked at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You need to be nicer to her, Logan," she said.

"I am bein' nice!" I told her defensively.

She sighed, putting a hand to her face and shaking her head. "I know you're trying, Logan, but you don't understand—"

"You're not lettin' me, Ro!" I interrupted her. "How can I be nice to the kid if I don't know anything about her, other than she has claws and some powers like me. What other powers does she have, Ororo? What made her so special that Charles spent all his time looking for her?" I slammed my fist down onto the arm of the chair I was sitting in. "Why wouldn't she get in the goddamn elevator?" I thought I'd add that, just for good measure.

Ororo sighed. "I would prefer if Rebecca were to tell you herself," she said, looking at the girl waiting patiently on the floor of the Danger Room. "But she probably won't, not for a long time, so it might be best if you were to know about her."

I nodded. "It's started up."

Ororo began pressing buttons, then turned on the speaker system again. "Rebecca, we're going to test your physical strength first."

"Fine by me," the kid called back.

"Mansion under attack?" I asked, referring to the simulation Ororo was going to use first.

She nodded absently, then watched through the one-way mirror. I turned my attention to the kid on the floor as it slowly turned into the mansion. Rebecca went immediately into defensive mode, popping her claws. It was a little strange watching her do that. I rubbed my thumb over my knuckles absently.

"Rebecca, as you know, is very much like you, Logan," Ororo began. The kid began prowling about, her senses on full alert, listening and watching for any movement. "She was given those claws by William Stryker, who, after you escaped, paid her parents a large sum of money to take her off their hands. Her parents didn't like mutants, and wanted nothing to do with her."

My brows furrowed as I watched the kid run into her first obstacle. It was a man in a heavily armored suit and mask, much like the ones who had attacked the mansion about a year ago. Much like the ones I had killed that night. She waited for him to step closer to her, her face slipping into what appeared to be almost animal-like features.

"While she was in the care of Stryker, he began discovering that she had many powers, and was not just like you," Ororo continued. "It was true she had superhuman strength and senses, as well as limitless regenerative abilities, but she had many others that she had been hiding from her parents. Stryker found this out the hard way a few times. When he would… approach her, she would throw fire or ice at him. Sometimes, she would attempt to get inside his mind, to make him set her free."

"What d'you mean, 'when he would approach her'?" Logan asked, his eyes flicking to Ro from the kid for an instance.

Ororo paused for a moment, and that was when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the kid spring upon the man in the armored suit. Without a second thought, with the silence of a mouse sneaking past a cat, she slit his throat with her claws, decapitating him in the process. She moved on.

"He raped her, Logan," Ororo finally answered. "Multiple times."

I stared at Ororo, then looked back at Rebecca, who was on the move again. I could see she was coming up on a large group of men, perhaps ten in all, with more waiting for her in the adjoining hallways.

"The serum you discovered the other woman who was like you was under, Stryker was testing this upon Rebecca first," said Ororo, also looking at Rebecca. "He wanted to make sure that it was working perfectly."

"Did she fight it?" I asked, my voice a gruff whisper.

"Sometimes," she whispered back. "In the beginnings, she could. But when Stryker refined it, there was no escaping him. She still has the mark on the back of her neck. However, you will never notice it, as she does not allow that mark to show upon her skin."

"She can transform shapes, too?"

Ororo nodded. "She's like Mystique."

I saw Rebecca come upon the group of men, and turned my attention to her. Letting go of every part of humanity (I knew how she would work; I fought the same way) she attacked. Her scream was full of rage, hostility, of an animalistic hunger. Her claws flew through the air, much faster than my own could go, slicing through the men's armor like it was made of paper. There was blood everywhere. It covered her shirt, her face. I knew it would disappear once the simulation was up, but it made this so much more real. It was at this point that I couldn't stop watching her, idly wondering if my movements were as graceful as hers.

"What powers does she have?" I asked, my voice sounding very far away. "How many."

"Ten, I believe," Ororo said. "Her strength and heightened senses, her regenerative abilities, fire conjuring, ice conjuring, shape-shifting, telekinesis, telepathy, teleportation, and weather control."

I stared at Rebecca as she killed, easily, the next of the onslaught of armored men. "She's like all of the X-Men in one," I muttered.

"In a sense, yes," Ororo said, turning back to watch her. "As you'll see, some of her powers are weaker than others. She claims that some will leave her entirely for periods of time, and then come back more powerful than before."

I pondered this for a moment. "Does anyone know why she has so many?"

"Jean was going to run some tests on her when she finally came here," Ororo said quietly. "We believe Stryker ran some tests on her as well, but we were never able to recover the results, nor was she told them."

"Are there any theories?"

I saw Ororo shake her head from the corner of my eye.

"Look at her, Ro," I remarked, sitting back in the chair and beckoning to Rebecca. "She's unstoppable."

"Much like you, Logan."

"No, watch her," I said, pointing as she stabbed two men simultaneously. "She's better than I am at hand-to-hand, more graceful. She's had practice; training, maybe."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Ororo said, pressing a few more buttons. The simulation disappeared. She turned on the speaker system.

"How was that?" came Rebecca's voice. She sounded normal, not winded, not as if she had just, in a sense, killed about fifty people. The blood had disappeared from her body.

"That was very good, Rebecca, we're both impressed," Ororo said with a smile, even though Rebecca wouldn't be able to see it. I did see the girl grin. "We're going to test the rest of your abilities, starting with fire and ice. Ready?"

"Of course."

For the next hour, I watched in astonished silence as Rebecca fought off everything that was thrown at her. She had no problem killing, but looked as if she took no pleasure in it. I understood that Ororo was simulating men fighting her to bright out the rage within her, so we could get her best from her.

"Will she fight women?" I asked at one point.

Ororo, instead of telling me, showed me. She put up against Rebecca a woman that was stronger and more agile than the men she had been fighting. Rebecca took control of the woman's mind and made her kill herself with a dagger she had hidden in her boot. Ruthless, I thought, nodding to Ororo to show that I understood now.

Finally, the show was over. "All right, Rebecca, we'll come and get you now."

Ororo began shutting down the computer, then looked to me. "Say nothing to her about this until she begins the conversation," she advised me. "She doesn't like people to know."

I nodded absently.


	6. Coyote

**Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

I was smirking as I waited for Ororo and Logan to come and get me after my barrage of testing in the Danger Room. It felt rather exhilarating to be able to show off all of my powers so outright, and to be able to let go and kill. I didn't like killing, but I had to repress the want to _not_ kill in order to survive sometimes. Knowing that these images were never alive in the first place made it so much easier; it was very relaxing, in a sick and twisted way.

The door to the room finally opened, and Ororo was looking at me, pride showing on her face. I noticed Logan's expression was a little harder to place. My brows furrowed as I stared back at him, trying to figure out what exactly he was thinking.

He was in awe.

I took a step back as I realized why. I caught images of myself seen from his eyes while the two of them watched me from the control room. Graceful was the word that kept passing through my mind via the memory. There was also a new respect developing for me within the memory. I could hear Ororo's voice in the background…

I stopped staring so intently, breaking the connection. I already knew what passed between them, and it darkened my mood ever so slightly.

"You did very well, Rebecca," Ororo said, smiling.

"So, what d'you think?" I asked. "Am I good enough to be an X-Man?" I tried to be good-natured, but it seemed to me to come out half-hearted.

"Very much so," Ororo said. "We would have let you join regardless of your abilities. We just wanted to know where you were at in reference to your fighting skills, but I see we have nothing to worry about there."

I shook my head and smiled a little, seeing that Logan was staring at me and nodding absently whenever Ororo said something he agreed with.

"Now that I'm a part of the X-Men, what else is there?" I asked, trying to ignore him.

"Well, we can get you fitted in a suit."

"A suit?"

Ororo nodded. "They're to help protect you and something that will allow the X-Men to be easily identifiable from those who are not." She paused. "You'll also need a code name. Mine is Storm. Logan's is—"

"Wolverine," he finished.

I looked to him quickly. The way he said it, it reminded me of a long-forgotten memory. I had no time to think, and quickly filed it away for later.

"So I'll need a code name?" I asked. I shrugged.

"You can think of one while we're fitting you for a suit," Ororo said. "Logan, if you'll kindly leave Rebecca and I to it…"

Logan inclined his head, turned and left. I watched him go, then looked back to Ororo.

"It's all right that you told him," I said to her. "I don't mind as much as you think I do." I offered a tiny smile. "It's better than trying to relate it myself sometimes."

Ororo stared at her for a moment, astonished, then shook her head and chuckled a bit. "You're so much like Charles, knowing things that are not said around you," she said. "It's strange, having to get used to it again."

I nodded, and she began to lead the way to where I imagined they kept the suits. It was a tiny room off the hallway next to the Danger Room. There were suits lined up, too many. I looked at them, puzzled.

"We keep them around for new recruits," Storm explained. "So that there is usually a size for everyone."

I nodded. "Size six," I told her, thinking of a good code name.

As Ororo pulled out a suit for me to try on, I met her gaze. "Coyote," I told her.

She gave me a quizzical look. I sighed, taking the suit from her. "Under or over the clothes?"

"Well, it is a bit skin-tight…"

I nodded, motioning for her to turn around. She did so, and I stripped down to my undergarments in order to try the suit on. I tried to explain as best I could the meaning behind my code name.

"In Native American cultures, the coyote is an important figurehead," I told her. "He is the trickster. I identify with Coyote, because I feel that I have many layers." I zipped up the suit and turned around. "I feel like I am a trickster, in a way, because of the extent of my powers. The way I look, one is unsuspecting of what lies underneath."

Storm turned around and nodded at me. "It suits you," she said, smiling. "Both the name and the suit."


	7. A Talk

**Chapter Seven**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

I was glad to finally have some time to myself. Ororo had let me off the hook for the rest of the day, saying she had some work to do. I headed back up to the my new room to take a shower and change clothes before heading to this amazing library that Ororo had told me about earlier. I hadn't read a good book in ages, and I was feeling the need to be anti-social for a while.

I slowed my pace when I saw Logan leaning against the wall on the outside of my room, obviously waiting for me. I gave him a puzzled look.

"How'd you learn to fight like that?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I took lessons when I was a kid," I told him, opening the door to my room anyway.

I didn't hear him follow me as I rummaged through my closet, taking out a change of clothes and putting them on the bed. He stood in the doorway, watching me, leaning against the doorframe. His arms were crossed over his chest. He was non-threatening and very curious.

"Can we continue this conversation after I shower?" I asked, hands on my hips.

He grunted, leaving the doorway. I walked over quickly and closed it.

About ten minutes later, I opened up my door again to see him in the hallway. I sighed.

"You don't give up easily, do ya?" I asked, a bit annoyed.

He shook his head. "I can be patient when I want."

"Mmm," I said, leaving the door open and walking toward the bed that sat in the middle of the room. I looked at him, and he stood in the doorway. "You don't have to stand in the doorway the whole time. Just leave the door open."

He walked a few feet into the room, scanning it, then spotted a chair far enough away from the bed. He took a seat. He was being more cautious around me.

"Storm told you," I said before he could open his mouth.

"How did—?"

"I can read you like a book, Wolverine," I told him, the amusement clear in my voice.

"Whaddya mean?" He looked a bit embarrassed, but hid it almost well enough.

"There are some people, like Storm, who have a… a wall surrounding their mind," I explained, trying to explain how I saw it. "It makes it a little more difficult to see into their mind, depending on how strong their wall is. Storm's is small right now, but she's workin' on it now that there's another telepath in the mansion." I shook my head at him. "But you have no wall, no barrier at all. Your mind can be read like a book."

He stared at me for a second, then blinked and looked away. "It's always been like that," he told me.

I took another long look at him. "You also had a part of your mind that's been taken from you," I commented.

He stiffened, and I sensed his heightened heart rate, smelled his irritation.

"Easy," I told him, holding up my hand. He stilled a bit. "Didn't mean anything by it, so cool it." My hand replaced itself on my knee. I wouldn't mention to him that he wouldn't stand a chance against me if he did decide to get angry and fight—it would just irritate him even more.

"Yeah, well, it's a sore spot," he grumbled.

I nodded. "I know a thing 'r two about sore spots," I responded.

We were silent for a few moments. Logan rearranged himself in the chair. He had more questions, but he was unsure of how to continue.

"So, you and Ro get everything worked out?"

"Yep," I said, centering myself in the bed and crossing my legs. I pulled them as close to my body as I could manage and still be comfortable. This was a habit I had developed. I saw Logan taking note of it. "Even gave myself a little nick-name like you have." I smirked.

"Oh?"

"It's Coyote."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how did you come to this name?"

I smirked. "My grandmother on my mother's side was a Blackfeet Indian," I explained. "She used to come over all the time when I was a kid, before she passed."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I answered immediately. "She wanted to be with her ancestors. Anyway, she told me all the stories of her people—" I paused. "Well, of my people. I'm a quarter Blackfeet thanks to her. Specifically, I'm a Pikuni—the part of the Blackfeet nation from Montana." I made a motion of moving the black, straight hair from my face. "She made sure that I knew what my medicine was."

"Medicine?"

I nodded. "Every adult Blackfeet has a medicine," I told him. "You find your medicine by figuring out which animal is your spirit helper. Their power becomes your medicine." I smirked as I remembered my grandmother's voice. "When I turned thirteen, my grandmother took me to discover my medicine. My father didn't like the idea of it, but consented just to appease me. The coyote visited me that night, came right up to my face and sniffed me. I showed no fear, just like I was told to do, and he approved of me. The coyote is the one who has given me his strength to get through my… ordeals."

I looked down and laughed. "My grandmother thought it was odd. The rest of the tribe did, too."

"Why?" Logan asked, his brows furrowed. I could tell that he was practically hanging off my every word, if only from sheer curiosity.

"The coyote is a male medicine," I said with a tiny smile. "My grandmother told me that I needed a strong medicine because I had a lot of tests that I would have to go through in my life." I chuckled. "She was right."

I paused a moment. "That's why I'm Coyote," I said. "That, and like I told Ororo, the coyote is the trickster. I look rather tiny and unintimidating… until you see me fight."

Logan chuckled a bit, obviously agreeing with me.

I felt almost relaxed here, as if this is where I needed to have been all along. Logan and Ororo were both very nice people, generous and genuine. It was still a bit strange to me, but I was adjusting back into normal society fairly well.

Then I heard something downstairs—a crash. Logan heard it too. He stood and went to the door, making little noise as he did so.

"The kids should still be in their classes," I heard him comment quietly.

I stood and followed him down to the kitchen, where he paused at the door and listened for a moment. With a quick swinging of his arms, he forced it open and went inside; I was close behind him, already feeling the animal side beginning to take over.

A girl jumped, startled at our sudden and rather explosive appearance. She recognized me and her face fell a little bit more. She held a large portion of a bowl in her hands, staring at me nervously over it. I noticed tiny bits of shattered bowl on the floor. I let my guard down.

"I dropped a bowl," the girl, Kitty, explained in a meek voice.

Logan sighed. "Why aren't you in class?" he grunted.

"Dr. McCoy let us out early," she said, warily eyeing me for a moment before bending over to pick up the rest of the bowl. "I wanted to get a snack before dinner."

Logan shrugged. "Kitty, this is Rebecca," he said, motioning quickly between us.

"We've met," Kitty replied a bit shortly.

"I'm sorry about this morning, Kitty," I said. "I'm a bit jumpy. Been on the road too much."

She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. "It's all right," she said. "No harm done."

"Ya shouldn't be running through walls like that, anyhow," Logan reprimanded.

"I know, I know," the girl said, both annoyed and holding back a laugh. I could tell this conversation had gone on a few times.

She was making mental notes about how alike Logan and I were. She thought it was odd, and wondered if we were related.

"We're not related," I said before I could stop myself.

She stared at me wide-eyed a moment. "You're like the professor…"

"I'm… different," I said carefully.

"How different?"

The interest showed in her eyes, and something deeper. She mourned the professor, much like everyone else here seemed to, but hers was having a profound effect on her. My guess was she was searching for a new mentor, or someone like it.

"Very."

I wanted to leave it at that. I was not fit to be anyone's mentor; not now, probably not for a good while. Come to think of it, probably never.

Kitty seemed a bit disappointed in the answer, and looked like she was going to press some more on the subject, but Logan interrupted her.

"We're gonna go meet Hank, then, since he's done with class for the day," Logan said, giving Kitty a stern look. The girl shut her mouth and placed the bits of the broken bowl into the trash can. He motioned for me to follow.

I looked back at Kitty as we left, and she gave a tiny wave. A look of mischief passed over her features, but I waved back and pretended as though I didn't see it.

"Who's Hank?" I asked, turning my attention back to Logan once we were out of the kitchen.

"Dr. Hank McCoy," Logan began, "also known as Beast. He teaches science and math to the kids now. He's also a mutant activist." He turned to look at me. "He's also been interested in ya. Wants to see if yer genetics have something to do with your mutant defect."

"It's not a defect," I said defensively.

"His words, not mine."

I grunted, suddenly unsure if I wanted to meet this doctor.


	8. Dr Hank McCoy

**Chapter Eight**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

We reached a large door, where Logan stopped and turned to me. "Hank likes to teach in the library," he explained quickly. "Lemme go in and introduce ya."

"Why?" I asked.

He wouldn't look me in the eye, and I could tell he was looking for a fast excuse. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

"You don't have to protect me, Wolverine, I'm not a child," I informed him, irked.

"Logan?" a deep voice called from within the room. "Who's that out there with you?"

Logan sighed and opened the door. "Hey, Hank," he said easily. "You remember that girl the professor was always lookin' for?"

There was a brief pause, where I imagined it was slowly clicking for Dr. McCoy.

"Well, she showed up today."

"Please, show her in," the doctor said, sounding excited. "I must meet her."

Logan looked back and me and motioned with his head to follow him inside. He stepped past the doorframe of the library so that I could enter behind him. I tried to keep my head high, but the animal in me nearly cowered at the sight before me.

Dr. Hank McCoy was definitely not someone for the faint of heart. He was very large, standing just a few inches taller than me, and he had more than enough muscle. However, that wasn't the most surprising. Dr. McCoy had blue fur growing on his body. His features were ape-like; he had long arms and shortened legs. He had fangs, which I could see because he was smiling at me. His eyes were the only things that looked human about him, and they showed a great deal of intelligence. I couldn't meet his eye for more than a moment. This man could easily overpower me, and both I and the animal knew it.

"Ah, Rebecca," Dr. McCoy said, as if my change in demeanor didn't unsettle him, "it's so good to finally meet you." He reached out a hand to me, the fingers elongated as well.

I took it to be polite and shook his hand lightly. I was struggling to act normally, but the animal in me was frightened and wanted to get away from the frightening new mutant.

"Dr. McCoy," I managed with a slight incline of my head.

"Please, call me Hank," he said happily. "Professor Xavier told me so much about you. You've been an object of interest to us since he first discovered you all those years ago."

"So I've heard," I said, crossing my arms. It was nothing against Hank, I was trying to communicate with subtle body language I was hoping he'd pick up on. I just was trying to keep myself together at this point.

His smile faltered for a moment. "Are you all right?"

I paused for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to lie. It would not be a convincing lie, and both Logan and Hank would pick up on it rather quickly. I sighed, unsure of what else to say. With my head lowered, I finally looked up at Hank and met his eyes.

"The animal's scared of you," I said quietly, almost ashamed.

Dr. McCoy studied me for a moment, but it was a compassionate look. "I understand more than you think, young lady."

With that, he backed up across the room and sat on a window seat there and did not move any closer to me. I felt the anxiety within me dissipate, and I could stand up straight and uncross my arms.

"Better?" Hank asked from across the room.

"Much, thank you."

"We'll stay like this until your other half gets used to me," Hank said jovially.

I felt Logan moving towards the door. "Ro and I gotta get the kids ready for dinner," he said. "Rebecca, come to the kitchen whenever yer hungry. There should be some food left after those kids have at it." He smirked a bit.

"Thanks," I said, nodding to him. After that, he left, leaving Hank and I alone.

He watched me from across the room, observing me and studying my physiology, I could tell. He did it with a very scientific approach, which I expected from a doctor. It was still a little strange, though.

"Professor Xavier was well-liked here," I said quietly. "I'm sad I didn't get to meet him."

Hank sighed. "Sometimes I wish you would have come when we needed you," he said to me. It was a straight-forward comment to have made, but his sincerity was comforting, in a way. "I wish Charles would have found you and taken you away from that awful man." He paused. "He thought he came close two years ago, but you were already gone."

I nodded. "I escaped prolly a year before you-all came. I—I couldn't stand it any longer there."

"Understandably so." Hank nodded. "William Stryker was a mad-man. I'm surprised you're as well-adjusted as you appear before me."

As he spoke, I finally allowed my eyes to wander the library. It made me smile a little. I didn't even notice that Hank had stopped speaking.

"You enjoy literature?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"Very much," I said, running my hand over a couple of spines. "I've missed books. I liked reading before… well, before."

I felt Hank's eyes upon me for a long while as I looked through the walls and walls of texts. Finally, he took in a breath and slowly let it out.

"Rebecca," he said, "I would like to run some tests on you. I want to find out why your mutation is the way it is."

"Why?" I asked, my brows furrowing as I looked to him.

"I want to know if it will cause you any harm," he said. He looked dumbfounded at my sudden anger.

"It hasn't so far, why should it start now?"

Hank stood up slowly, going to try and reason with me. The space between us was still considerable, but I could feel the animal raising its hackles at him.

"Rebecca, I am a scientist," he said calmly. "I'm very curious about abnormalities, especially in mutants." He looked at me quickly. "And please do not try and tell me that you are not abnormal. I can sense your own intelligence, and to argue with me on this point would not be doing your brain justice."

"I wasn't going to argue the point."

"Good," Hank said before continuing. "My specialties lie in biochemistry, and my degree is in biophysics. However, I have a wide range of study, and the one I most admire is genetics. Allowing me to run tests on you would allow me to finally answer the questions that I've had about you for the past eight years. It would be, as they say, like allowing a child free reign of a candy store." He smiled at the simile. "I will, nevertheless, respect your interests if you do not wish these tests to be run upon you. As a matter of fact, the results may have negative connotations; some things you may not wish to hear. On the other hand, they could be extremely positive."

"It's fifty-fifty either way you look at it," I stated.

"Precisely."

"These abilities aren't a curse," I told him sternly.

"I wouldn't want you to think so, no matter what the outcome," Hank said agreeably.

I thought for a moment, deciding that the outcome could only be good. Having a knowledge of why I was the way I was wouldn't be so bad.

"When do you want to do the tests?" I asked.

He grinned. "Perhaps tomorrow morning, after you're fully rested?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't sleep much."

"Then tonight after dinner? It may take a while, though, and the results wouldn't be conclusive until tomorrow evening."

"That's fine," I told him. "As long as you don't mind staying up."

He gave me a weary smile. "Many of the teachers here experience the same problems at night that you have, Rebecca," he said. "We do not sleep so much as we worry."

I nodded in understanding.

"Come," Hank, said, heading for the door, still leaving the space between us. "Let us get some food before those little monsters do."

I could tell Hank liked the kids, especially the little ones. The smile on his face and the memory in his brain told me so. I gave a tiny smile back and followed him to the kitchen.


	9. Dinner or The Tests

**Chapter Nine**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

The kitchen was packed with students. The amount of children and young adults in the room was overwhelming for me, and I opted to grab a plate of food and sit out in the hallway. The room was far too claustrophobic for my taste.

A few moments passed before the door opened. Logan poked his head around the door and looked to see me sitting on the floor, eating quietly. In truth, I was listening to the different conversations going on in the room, trying to pick out a few of the more interesting ones to focus on. I found the younger children much more amusing, arguing over which show, mostly ones I had never heard of, were better than others.

"Hey," he said, allowing the door to shut behind him.

"Hey." I glanced up briefly to let him know I saw him before turning back to my food.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just didn't wanna eat in an overcrowded room," I said before taking a bite of a roll. I chewed a bit and swallowed before adding, "Close quarters with a bunch of people… not really my thing, if ya catch my drift." I smirked.

He nodded, leaning against the wall on the other side of the door. It opened again, blocking my view of him.

"Logan, why're ya out here?"

A girl's voice, younger than me, but not by quite much, spoke to him. I sniffed the air, sensing the change that had overcome Logan, and getting a good feel for the girl, even though I couldn't see her.

"I was keepin' the new girl company," Logan answered, trying to hide his sheepishness.

"Oh."

She sounded disappointed.

"Can I meet her?"

She was trying to change the subject, hoping he wouldn't pick up on her… mix of emotions.

Logan chuckled. "You'd have to close the door first, kid."

She stepped forward, closer to him as I still couldn't see her, allowing the door to close. She turned around, and I saw a girl who was, in fact, maybe only a year or two younger than me. She had very pale skin, brown eyes, and brown hair. The curious part was the white streak that ran through the middle part of her hair, up towards the front. She smiled politely.

"I'm Marie," she said. "But you can call me Rogue, too." She reached out her hand.

I took it, feeling awkward on the floor as I did so. "Rebecca," I told her. "Or Coyote, if you want."

She nodded. "Cool name," she said, retracting her hand as I did the same. "So, when'd you get here?"

"Just this mornin'," I said. "I thought this place would be better than where I had been" I gave her a tiny smile.

"An' where was that?"

I looked up at her. "The road," I said. "Everywhere. Runnin'."

I looked back to my plate and began eating again. She turned back to Logan, I saw out of the corner of my eye, before turning back to me.

"You're from the South?" she asked.

I nodded. "Georgia," I told her. "Kinda hard to shake the accent, but mine's not as bad as it could be. It mostly comes out when other Southerners are around, though, so I'm good for most of the time, at least."

She giggled. "I don't think there's anything wrong with it," she said. "I'm from Mississippi, so everyone has one."

She watched me for a moment more, thinking. She thought I was like Logan, mysterious. She also wondered why he had been out here with her. Marie wanted to talk to Logan about her lack of powers, now that Bobby was out of the picture. She stopped that train of thought, thinking it was silly. What would he want with her? She was still "kid" to him.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Rebecca," Marie said with a tiny smile. "Maybe I'll be seeing you around?"

"Prolly," I said, smiling back, though mine was a little more forced. "I'm sure I'll be here for a while."

She nodded, turning back to Logan. "Kitty and the rest of them who're on trainin' to be on the team wanna use The Danger Room tonight," she told him. "Think you'll be there? I was gonna watch."

Logan shifted. "I might be by later, but I got some stuff to do, kid. Ororo will be there, though." He gave her an almost comforting smile.

I knew she wasn't happy to hear that. She wanted to be able to talk with him, like olds times. If she couldn't have his love, she at least wanted his friendship.

"All right, well, I guess I'll might see you later, then," she said. She opened the door and went back into the kitchen.

"What was her power?" I asked as soon as the door closed.

"She absorbed others' powers."

I nodded, figuring it was something like that. "I can see why she's glad to get rid of it."

"You should try an' stay outta people's heads, ya know." He didn't sound offended, but he looked concerned.

I shrugged. "I can't help it if people project, Logan," I told him. "She was trying to will you to hear her thoughts."

His brows furrowed, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking. "Don't start," he said.

I looked back and ate the last bite of my food. "So, you're blowin' her an' her friends off to come and hang out while Hank does the tests on me?" I paused, smirking. "I'm touched, Wolverine."

He seemed taken aback by my sarcasm, and it looked as though it could go either well or badly from there. He decided to chuckle, which I guess was somewhat of a relief. Apparently the Wolverine offended easily.

"Looks like it."

He stared at me for a moment, and was about to speak again when the door opened a third time. It closed immediately, and I knew it was Hank who stood on the other side before it even closed. He looked to me and grinned.

"Ready to go?"

"Sure," I said, standing. I held my plate, wondering what to do for a moment.

Hank laughed, taking the plate from me and returning it to the kitchen. In that moment, I knew Logan had something to ask me, but for once I couldn't tell what it was. He was getting better at hiding things. My curiosity would have to wait.

Hank returned, then told me to follow him. He asked Logan why he was coming along instead of seeing to the teens who would soon be joining the X-Men. Logan shrugged.

"I wanna see how similar we are," he said.

We reached the hospital wing of the mansion. It was just like an actual hospital; I felt very impressed. They had machines I had no clue what the uses were for, as well as the standard equipment like heart monitors, respirators, and the like.

"I would like, first, Rebecca, for a sample of your blood," Hank told me. "So if you would like to have a seat, we can get started." He patted a chair, making it clear it was that I was supposed to sit on and not the bed that was in the room. I thought it kind of him.

I sat on the chair and waited for the rest of my instructions. Hank returned with a needle and stood a few feet away from me while he spoke again.

"Now, if your… other half decides to act up, just let me know and we'll stop. All right?"

I nodded. "It seems to be used to you," I said. "I guess it knows it can trust you."

"Well, that's certainly a good sign," Hank said, smiling with relief.

I saw Logan standing in the corner, watching everything carefully. The door to the room had been left open for my own comfort, and Hank moved very slowly. Logan was completely still, his nostrils flaring every so often to show he was breathing. Hank cleaned my skin with a cottonball that had smelly rubbing alcohol on it. I ignored the smell as best I could, though it was quite annoying.

The needle pierced my skin, which only stung for a moment. I felt the blood being drawn from my body. Soon, the needle was pulled out. The tiny hole where the needle had been closed up in a second.

"Fascinating," Hank said, watching my skin mend in awe.

I smiled. "Sorry, I'm used to it, so it's not quite fascinating to me anymore."

"Well, I say 'fascinating' because your healing factor appears to be faster than Logan's," Hank said.

That got the man in the corner to perk up. "Faster?" he said.

"Well, Logan, when I took your blood, the cut didn't heal for a few more seconds than Rebecca's. Perhaps I am remembering incorrectly. The only way we would be able to tell is if we gave you both cuts of similar sizes and widths on almost exactly the same parts of your skin, filmed it, and then watched it in slow motion. We could count the frames per second to see which of your factors was faster." He stopped, pondering to himself for a moment. "However, this is just for my own curiosity, mostly, nothing would really come of it."

He walked away from me and placed the syringe of my blood on a metal tray on the counter in the corner. Logan gave me a strange look.

The rest of the time in the hospital wing was spent with Hank running a variety of different tests on me, x-rays, CAT scans, the whole works. The whole time, Logan watched carefully, keeping quiet. After an hour or two, Hank was done, and said he would most likely be working on getting some results by morning, if he could.

"Once I have a conclusion," he told me, "I'll let you know."

I nodded to him and turned to go, knowing that Hank would be more than wrapped up in his work. Logan didn't follow me. He stayed to talk with Hank, I figured, probably about me.

That night, I spent my time in the library, catching up on the books that I had wanted to read.


	10. Logan and Hank

**Chapter Ten**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^ As an aside, I'm doing something much different from my other Rebecca X-Men story, that is I am actually explaining why she is the way she is. I did some research on brain functions and the like, but forgive me if it's not all correct. (If there are any brain experts out there, feel free to give me some ideas on how to make it better.) Thanks again.

* * *

I watched Hank work for a long time, both of us silent. The thing he had said about Rebecca's healing working faster than mine bugged me. It wasn't an ego thing, like most people might think of me, especially that Cyclops—if he was still here, of course; it was times like this I missed him being around. I'd never admit it to anyone, especially Ororo, but Scott knew what to do with the new arrivals, much more than I could have handled them. He would also know what to say to Rebecca. Even though she and I were more similar than I'd want to admit out loud, his snide remarks would be more than helpful to get me to stop worrying so much about her.

Finally, I couldn't take the drawn-out silence.

"What're you up to, Hank?"

He was doing a bunch of things at once, and I couldn't keep track of anything. I'd never paid science much attention, but now I wish I at least knew half of the stuff he was doing.

"I'm starting the DNA extraction process," Hank said evenly. He had his back turned to me, and his shoulders hid the process from me.

I grunted. "Then what?"

"Then we wait."

He was quiet for another couple of moments, then he turned to retrieve her x-rays. He looked back at me as he turned on the projector that would allow us to see them.

"Hit the lights, please, Logan," he told me.

Seeing as I was closest to the switch, I didn't object. As soon as the lights were off, my eyes immediately adjusted. I knew Hank's did the same. He placed an x-ray of her entire body upon the projector. I had seen my x-rays once before, when I first joined the X-Men. Jean had taken them, run a lot of the same tests on me that Hank had on Rebecca. Her x-rays looked just like mine, only in miniature form, and the outline of her skin was slightly curvier than I imagined mine looked.

Hank nodded. "Everything is in order, except she has the adamantium running throughout her skeletal structure," he said, his fingers tracing her bones. "I'm still not quite sure what allows her the claws." He looked to me. "Perhaps you have some insight on your claws, Logan?"

I shook my head. "Wish I did, Hank, but I don't," I told him. "I figured Stryker put them into me."

"Yes, but the adamantium was only laced through your skeleton, Logan," Hank said. "I can't imagine a way to have the adamantium stay on its on in the hands here" – He pointed to her hands, staring at them intently. — "without there being something to keep it there in the first place." He shook his head. "Perhaps Rebecca will be able to enlighten us on this matter."

I nodded. "It might help me, too."

"It would," Hank said as he took off the body shot and placed her head upon the projector. He nodded. "Exactly the same."

He sounded so shocked, but calm all at once. He couldn't doubt that Stryker wouldn't do the same thing twice. Hell, he'd done it three times. It made me wonder how he treated the Asian-looking woman I'd killed, the one he'd had controlled with that crap he tested on Rebecca. I clenched my fists.

Hank noticed my sudden change of emotions. "Is this upsetting you, Logan?" he asked quickly. "If it is, you might not want to stay."

"I'm fine," I said quietly.

Hank gave me a look out of the corner of his eye before he took the x-ray of Rebecca's head from the projector. He nodded towards the light switch, and I obliged, trying not to follow down that train of thought.

Hank went over to the computer that was hooked up to the machine that had scanned her brain, I think he called it a PET scan, whatever the hell that stood for. He took a seat, and I stood behind him, staring intently at the screen.

He brought up an image of her brain. Different sections of it were lit up in different colors ranging from yellow to red to green to blue. None of it meant anything to me.

"This is what Rebecca's brain looks like when I told her to relax," Hank said, tapping the screen to indicate the picture in front of me. "Everything is normal so far."

He pressed a button, and another image came up. He tapped the screen on a certain portion of her brain that was bright red in color. "This is when I told her to think back on her memories of Stryker. I'm sorry I had to do it, but I had to know everything was in working order, and this is one of the ways to tell. Fear comes from a tiny portion of the brain called the amygdale, which is what is lit up so brightly here. You can see that her frontal lobe is also in action." He pointed to the front of her brain that was also bright red. "This shows me that everything is normal."

I could tell Hank hadn't wanted to make Rebecca remember, not just from his words, but how he was acting. She wasn't just some science project to him anymore; she had a face and a personality. Hank may have been a scientist, but if I'd known any better, he was becoming a sucker for a pretty face. The thought made me smirk, and I immediately tried to hide it.

Hank flipped to the next slide. This one was a blown-up version of the original picture, though it looked slightly different.

"This one, I asked her to focus on one of her powers as well as she could, without moving," Hank said. He had gotten very quiet, and I knew this was important. He pointed to the screen. "This is the part of her brain called the hypothalamus. It helps to controls the pituitary glands, which control hormones. The hypothalamus also controls something called circadian cycles, which will be important in a moment."

"Do you think you know what's wrong with her?" I asked, my brows furrowing.

"I have a theory," Hank said. "But I will know more once I am able to see her DNA." He was staring at the picture before him of her brain as if it entranced him. "For now, I need to talk this out, to see if it makes sense. I'm glad you stayed, Logan, this could be very important."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. Good thing Hank was a well-versed scientist.

"Her hypothalamus lit up when I asked her to activate one of her powers. Her pituitary gland lit up as well. This is interesting, mainly because our mutation, the x-gene, is known to set on at puberty. The hypothalamus controls the pituitary gland, telling it when to release hormones. The pituitary gland controls the onset of puberty."

"What're ya thinking, Hank?" I asked, trying not to let my brain get ahead of what he was saying.

"I think that something happened with her x-gene," Hank said. "I'm not sure what yet, but I will be able to confirm soon. I think her x-gene is broken, in a sense. I believe, because of her regenerative capabilities, it is causing her hypothalamus to believe that she is in a constant state of going through puberty. Because of this, her pituitary gland is being forced to release more hormones into her body, feeding the x-gene and causing her to gain more powers than usual."

He looked at me. "It's a stretch, but do you think it makes sense?"

I stared back at him. "What about that cycle thing?"

"It only helps stack the evidence in my theory's favor," Hank said. "The circadian cycles control sleeping and eating patterns. It also has an effect on hormones, brain wave activities, and cell regeneration. This might explain Rebecca's lack of sleeping habits, which is also being aided by her trauma. I'm sure once I've studied her eating patterns, I might find more evidence there, as well. I imagine that she eats more than someone of her size because of her hyper-active thyroid. The x-gene may also contribute to her having gained her regenerative abilities."

I felt my eyes widen. Hank saw this and nodded, turning back to the screen.

"It fits," I said quietly.

"Yes… yes it does."

He didn't sound too happy.

"Has there been anyone like her before, Hank?" I asked.

"Not to my knowledge," he said. "But I will be doing some research over the next week or so on it. I may have to call in a few favors." He looked to me again. "Make sure not to mention this to her. Insure that it is not in your thoughts the next time you see her. I do not wish to worry her when I'm not even sure any harm will come to her because of this."

I paused. "Do you think it might?"

"There is… always a possibility of harm where the brain functions are concerned," he told me. "I will know even more by tomorrow evening, once I've gotten a chance to look at her DNA. Would you like to discuss this further then?"

I found myself nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I would." I blinked, meeting his eyes. "You gonna tell Ro?"

"Of course," Hank said. "I have to. She must hear this as well, so I may have her input on the situation as well."

He stood, beginning to turn off the computer and shut down all of the equipment. He left some of it alone, and that was where I figured the DNA extraction was taking place.

"For tonight, there is not much else we can do," he said. "We will wait, and then we will think, and we will find out what is happening to Rebecca."

He sounded very determined, almost like he was taking this personal.

"It sounds like you care for her a lot already," I commented. I was trying to say it quietly, but I think it came out too gruff.

Hank gave me a strange look. "No more than you care for keeping Marie safe," he told me. "I fear for Rebecca at this point, Logan. She is my patient now, in a way, and I don't imagine doctors enjoying giving their patients death sentences."

"You don't think it's that extreme, do you?"

"Let us hope not," Hank said. "But be sure to keep in mind, Logan, that although Rebecca may be charming and someone who was well-regarded in her importance by Professor Xavier, that I do not let my emotions get in the way of my work."

He gave me a lasting look, and then motioned to the exit. I was the first to look away, something I would never usually do. Hank's look, though, was serious. I decided I didn't want a fight tonight.

Hank and I said good night to one another, and as I was walking back to my room, I wondered about his last statement. He had said he wouldn't let his emotions get in the way. Exactly what emotions was he referring to? His "high regard," as he put it, for her because of Chuck's knowledge of her? That didn't seem to fit right, and it didn't make any sort of sense. He had said she was charming.

What had they talked about when I left them in the library? I didn't imagine Hank to be the kind of guy that would be anything but business. Maybe he wanted to protect Rebecca. He had mentioned my want to protect Marie and compared it to how he felt about Rebecca. I cared for Marie by protecting her in the beginning. Now she was not in danger. She'd taken the cure, but kept living here because she had nowhere else to go. She wanted to stay here and teach, she'd told Ororo, who'd had no problem with that. I'd like to think that Hank would just want to protect Rebecca. She'd had a hard life up until now, and maybe he thought showing her kindness and offering her a sense of protection would make her feel more at ease.

I put together what I knew of Rebecca, and I didn't think she was the kind of person who'd want someone else protecting her. She'd hoped her parents would protect her, but they threw her away the first chance they got. She wouldn't trust anyone who claimed they'd protect her.

Then what else could Hank be getting at?

My original thought came back to me: Hank was getting attached.

I'd have to talk to Ororo about this tomorrow night after we'd all talked about Rebecca's condition. I hoped she would just tell me that I was crazy, but I'm no idiot when it comes to picking up on body language and people's emotions.

I decided this was too much for me to think about, and I had sleep on my immediate agenda.


	11. The Almost Fight

**Chapter Eleven**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^ And as another aside for this chapter: Yeah, I like _The Scarlet Letter_. So sue me. *shrug*

Hope y'all like the length to this one. I had pretty good inspiration.

* * *

I was still in the library, reading, when Hank came in the next morning. I hadn't even noticed the sun beginning to rise. I was cramped up in a chair, one that was well-cushioned for this serving a double use as a classroom, underneath a lamp, a book propped open in my hands. I looked up as he came in—I had heard his hand move to open the door.

"Oh, Rebecca," he said, sounding surprised to see me. "Have you been here all night?"

I nodded, marking my place in the book before standing to stretch. I saw Hank watching me oddly, and I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"What were you reading?" he asked quickly.

"A little bit of this, a little of that," I said, shrugging. I picked up the book I had just held in my hand and made the motion of throwing it to him. He caught it easily.

"_The Scarlet Letter_?" Hank asked before laughing. "Most of the students here cringe whenever Ororo assigns them to read this. What made you choose it?"

"It was the last thing I was reading in my English class in high school before…" I trailed off. "Well, before everything else happened. I wanted to see how it ended." I paused. "As you can see, I'm not quite done yet. I like Hester Prynne, though."

"And why is that, might I ask?" Hank asked, sitting on the edge of a sturdy table and flipping through Hawthorne's book.

"She does things for love," I answered simply. "She loves Dimmesdale, and he loves her. It's a bit sad so far, and I don't see it ending well. But, Hawthorne does call it a romance… even if it might turn out to be tragic."

Hank give me another strange look. "Yes, well," he said, standing a shaking the book absent-mindedly as he walked toward her, "this is merely symbolism." He held it out to her.

I made a note that this was the closest we had been able to get to one another without the animal raising its hackles. I smirked.

"Well of course it's all symbolism," I said. "Everything, even the trees, practically trembled and shouted, 'We're symbolic!'"

Hank chuckled. "Authors do have that knack about them," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

He stood near me a moment longer before turning to walk toward his desk that was set underneath the window. He began shuffling papers around while he spoke to me.

"I hope you saw it fit to go to the kitchen when you were hungry during the night."

"Oh, no, I was hungry, but I wanted to keep reading," I told him. I noted that the door was still open, something he had probably done to comfort me once he realized I was here.

"You're like me when I become too engrossed in my work," Hank said, a fond smile coming onto his lips.

There was more behind the smile. Before I could help myself, I had delved into his mind. I caught a glimpse of my mind, illuminating with different colors, upon a screen as Hank pointed to different parts. He was looking at the screen while he spoke, but I heard Logan's voice in the background.

"It fits," Logan said.

I pulled out of his brain only a second after I had been pulled into his memories, but that last comment struck her. I stared at Hank for a very long moment before I began trembling.

"Rebecca?" Hank asked, suddenly concerned. He started for me.

I held out a hand, and he stopped. "What fits?" I asked, trying to steady my voice.

Hank's entire demeanor changed in an instant. "How did you see that? What did you see?" He was speaking rapidly, but he wasn't angry. He was worried, worried how much I had seen.

"Not much, Logan said something fits," I told him. "I didn't mean to, Hank, I'm sorry. It's my hardest power to control." I paused, staring at him. I felt the tears coming to my eyes. "I felt your fear, Hank. I felt your concern. What fits?" I was pleading with him, just to still my own mind from racing.

Hank regarded me for a long moment, and I could tell he was fighting within himself. "I do not wish to worry you right now, Rebecca," he said. "Give me until the end of the week, and I promise I will tell you what I know." His features turned softer. "Just… promise me that you will not worry yourself sick. I would feel responsible."

His eyes flicked away from mine as he said the last word. I bit my lower lip, playing with it for a moment before I finally nodded. He saw me and let out a breath.

"Good," he said. "I also would like to apologize about last night, when I made you recall Stryker. I was merely doing so for the test I was running."

"I know, Hank, I understand," I said, getting very quiet.

"You know that no one here would hurt you on purpose, Rebecca," Hank continued, "especially myself."

I looked up at him quickly. He seemed to realize his slip and added, "You are my patient now, Rebecca. Anything that I might do that seems strange or painful is only because I must do it."

I nodded slowly. "It's all right, Hank, I forgive you."

He looked as though he had been waiting for me to say that. His posture changed again, becoming more relaxed.

"I'm going to go get some breakfast," I told him. "Would you… mind if I sat in on your classes today?" I noticed it sounded strange for me to say it, so I thought another moment before continuing, "I just wanna see where I am, science-wise. I… never got my diploma, so I just wanted to see…"

Even I wasn't sure where I was going, so I stopped rambling and waited for his reply.

"If you would like, Rebecca, I will not mind having you sit in on my classes today," Hank said with a kind smile. "Are you thinking of sitting for your GED eventually?"

"It would be nice," I told him. "I always wanted to go to college, but I don't think I could as easily as I'd like to think anymore, so it may have to wait."

Hank chuckled a moment before answering me. "Well, if your regenerative abilities are anything like Logan's, I imagine you'll have a longer time to do so than most normal people to go to college."

I thought about this a moment, and it made sense to me. My ability would keep my body alive, even when others who were born normal and the same year as me might be old and frail.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, and neither is he," Hank said. "He had most of his memory of his early years taken from him."

I furrowed my brows. This would probably require another conversation with the Wolverine.

"I'll be sure to talk to him about it," I said. "I'll see you later, then, Hank."

Hank smiled kindly at me before watching me leave the library.

* * *

Hank's classes were interesting. Today he was talking to the older students, and their subject was on genetics and natural selection. I found the whole lecture to be very interesting. Hank never seemed to get distracted when he was talking about genetics, citing Darwin and Mendel like he was reading it off of a page instead of recalling it from memory. I saw all of his students taking diligent notes, including Marie, who had waved to me and spoken to me for a few minutes when the students had first walked in.

She had introduced me to Bobby, who also went by Iceman, as her boyfriend. Kitty said hello to me shyly before sitting down. Marie also pointed out Jubilee and a bunch of other kids whose names I probably wouldn't remember. They had all seemed very nice, and talked adamantly about their practice the night before. Who would get onto the X-Men's team and who wouldn't?

"I'm on it," I informed Marie, who looked surprised.

"But I thought you just got in?"

"I did, but I figured I'd make my stay a bit more permanent," I said.

She gave me an odd look, but I looked away from her so my telepathic powers wouldn't get any ideas. They were hard to control sometimes, and it was embarrassing to try and explain why I knew what everyone was thinking. I was going to try my hardest today to control it.

After Hank's class was over and students dismissed, he turned to me and asked how I liked it.

I nodded. "You know your subject very well."

He grinned. "I get lost in my work, as I told you before," he said. "Now, let us go grab some dinner. Afterward, you may entertain yourself with your books again while I do some more research."

As we began to walk down the hallway, I asked, "On me?"

"Did you read my mind to find that or were you guessing?" He didn't sound hurt; he was teasing me. That was definitely a bit weird, and I wasn't sure how to react.

"No, I guessed," I said.

I suppose my confusion showed in my reply, as Hank dropped whatever manner he had been speaking in.

"Yes, I will be doing research on you," he said. "I will be looking at your DNA all night."

"Sounds fun," I said sarcastically.

"Actually, for me, it will be," he said.

"Kid in a candy store again?"

He laughed. "Yes, very much so."

* * *

It was late at night when I went back to my room. I had finished reading _The Scarlet Letter_ and was thinking how sad it was Hester Prynne had not been able to live happily with Arthur Dimmesdale. I was so thoroughly absorbed in my thoughts that I nearly ran into Logan.

He looked flustered and took a step back. I apologized a few times before feeling myself blush. Way to go, Rebecca, I chastised myself.

"It's fine," Logan said. "Guess ya _can_ sneak up on the both of us as long as we're thinkin'."

His attempt at humor was nice, but only made me ask, "What were you thinking about?"

His eyes shifted to the side. I could tell he was trying to phrase his answer the best way he could before blurting it out.

"I wanted to talk to ya, actually," he said. "Hank had a few questions, and he thought it'd be a good way for us to bond 'r some shit."

The way he'd said it and how he looked while saying it made me snort. I covered my mouth and managed to stop myself from giggling. Logan looked annoyed.

"_What_?" he growled.

"'Bond 'r some shit,'" I said, repeating his gruff voice. "What're you, a cowboy?"

Logan glared at me for a moment. "So ya have time to talk or what?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Hank wanted to know if you could remember how Stryker gave you your claws," Logan said, diving right in. He didn't want to sugar-coat it, and I was glad he hadn't tried to. "I dunno how I got mine. Hank mentioned it'd be pretty much impossible to have the claws without having them connected to some kind've bone, since the adamantium's in our skeletal system."

I nodded. "He's right," I said.

I moved the extra few feet to my door and opened it, leaving it open so he could follow me. Once he was in the room, I let my claws loose.

Snickt!

I held up my claws to my face and stared at them for a long time before looking at Logan from behind the shining metal. "These used to be bone," I said.

"Huh?"

"My claws, they used to be made of bone," I said. I sat on the bed, staring at them for a longer time before answering him again. "I was born with the extra bones. I found out when I broke my arm when I was nine, before my powers started showing up. They took x-rays, and saw the bones sitting in my arm. Just to see, they looked in my other arm and found the same thing. There were three very thin bones that were very close together in both of my forearms. They didn't look like they were attached to anything. The doctors told my parents they'd be able to remove them when I was older without any problem."

I looked up at Logan. He seemed lost in my story, as if he were trying to remember his long-forgotten memories.

"I told my parents later, after I hit puberty at twelve, that the bones didn't bother me. I didn't need the extra bones removed. I really just didn't want them to discover that those 'extra bones' would come out from between my fingers if I flexed my arms in the right way."

Snackt!

I retracted my claws. The feeling was always so strange, but it made me feel calmer. I looked back to Logan, who noticed the tiny slits of blood on each of my knuckles. The openings closed up instantly, as soon as my claws were safely back in my body. He continued to stare at the blood, trying to will himself to remember.

"You probably had bone claws, too," I told him. I stood and walked toward him. "Are there any more questions, Logan? I'm kinda tired."

He looked at me again, and I caught a flash of memory. He and Ororo were talking about Hank. Logan was trying not to think of the things Hank had been saying; he knew Ororo was trying to push the thoughts of what might become of Rebecca to the back of her mind as well. He had something more important to discuss at the moment.

"I think he's gettin' attached," Logan said.

"Fuck," I whispered, stepping away from him as I shook my head to get rid of the telepathic link between us.

"What? What happened?" he asked, suddenly on full alert. He reached for me, but I shoved his hands back forcefully. He stopped.

"I just got a bit of one of your memories," I said. "I'm trying not to, but my telepathy has a mind of its own sometimes, I think."

"What kind've memory?" Logan asked.

I knew what he wanted me to say. He wanted it to be something from his past that I could reveal to him.

"Nothing that you'd want me to know," I said. I left it at that.

"Like what?" the Wolverine growled at me.

"Hey, chill the hell out," I told him calmly. "All I saw was you and Ororo talking, all right? It was nothing serious."

"C'mon, Rebecca, you can sense when someone's lyin', don't think I can't do the same," he said, coming a few steps closer to me.

I glared at him, daring him to step any closer to me. "Get the hell away from me," I told him, my voice getting low.

The animal within me felt itself getting backed into a corner. Quite literally, I was. I felt my back hit a wall. Logan approached closer, breaking into my personal space barrier that I was more than well aware of.

"Tell me what you saw," Logan insisted.

I saw Stryker coming for me in everything he was doing: his demanding voice, the gruffness nothing like the kindness Logan had shown me earlier. He made himself appear larger than he really was, and it felt like he was looming over me. I began to panic.

"Fuck off."

I had told Stryker those same words again and again, only to be restrained by a tranquilizer dart. It only worked on me for a few seconds, but it was long enough for me to wake up not myself.

"Tell me."

I didn't want him to have that control over me anymore. I couldn't let him. I wouldn't.

"I said no!"

I shoved him in a swift movement. He didn't see me coming, and he flew across the room and landed out in the hallway. He only stopped when the wall was there to catch him. I heard doors opening and slamming frantically only seconds after it had happened.

I stood in my doorway now, somewhat unsure of how I'd gotten there. I was staring at Logan, who appeared to be knocked out from the force of his head smacking against the wall. Suddenly, Ororo was in front of me.

"Rebecca," she said hurriedly. She caught my attention, and I slowly began to come back from my panic attack.

Hank was there, checking Logan's pulse. Ororo looked to him, and he nodded.

"It would take more than that to hurt him seriously," Hank said quietly to Ororo. He left Logan on the floor and looked to the students who had gathered in the hallway.

"And just what do you think you're all doing out of bed?" he yelled at them. "Get back to your rooms this instant!"

While Hank shooed the kids off to bed, Ororo came to look after me.

"Rebecca, what happened?" she asked, standing a couple of feet from me. She saw that I was not in my right frame of mind.

"He made me have a panic attack," I said quietly, my voice shaky. I looked up and saw there was a Logan-sized dent in the wall. "I promise to help fix the wall."

I wouldn't meet her eye. I noticed Hank was heaving Logan up and taking him to his bedroom. Ororo was trying to get my attention.

"Rebecca, tell me what happened, tell me everything," she said, touching my hand a little bit. I let her. It helped to ground me in the present.

So I told her. I didn't tell her the memory I had accidentally seen in Logan's mind, as Hank had come back and was listening carefully. Ororo nodded empathetically.

"It's all right, Rebecca," she told me calmly. "This is not your fault, understand?" She put her hand on my shoulder.

I nodded.

"We'll have a talk with Logan when he wakes up," Ororo continued. "You can go back to your room, Hank and I will be standing out here. Logan should be awake soon enough."

I felt Hank's eyes on me until I was safely behind my door. That's when I allowed myself to break down and cry. I knew Hank would most likely be able to hear me, but I didn't care. Instead of crying in front of my door, I stripped down and went into the bathroom. I turned the shower onto the hottest setting and stepped in. I cried as I scrubbed myself harshly with the soap that was there for my use.

I couldn't understand how real it still was. It was unfathomable to me. And how easily I had been provoked into remembering everything, to being sent back there… it was very unnerving.

After I had thoroughly scrubbed myself, I was no longer crying. I could no longer feel him on my skin, and he was slowly retreating from my thoughts. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. I stuffed the one end into the bit wrapped around my body, so that it would hold itself up. I picked up my brush and walked into my room so I could sit on the bed and brush my hair, something I used to do to calm myself.

I heard Logan yelling out in the hallway. I heard Hank and Ororo's voice trying to calm him. I even heard Beast growl at him. That was a startling sound by itself. I stared at the door as I realized there were frantic footsteps coming toward it. I stood and threw my brush onto the bed. My towel held to my body, and I hoped it would hold for at least a while longer, until I was sure there would be no fight.

When the door slammed open, I popped my claws and took a fighting stance, my teeth bared. Logan burst into the room, but Hank grabbed him before he got too far. I saw the long arms wrap around Logan's body, trapping him in a bear-like hug.

"You're being unreasonable!" Ororo was shouting at him, getting in between Logan and me. I did not let up on my stance, as Logan was fighting hard against Hank's grip. "Rebecca cannot control what happened to her, Logan! You frightened her!"

"She didn't have to attack me!" Logan growled, stopping his struggling. He glared at Ororo.

"What would you have done, Logan?" Ororo shouted at him. "The same thing you're doing now. Stop acting like a petulant child and behave like the adult you are. You're setting a bad example for the students! What would Charles think, Logan?"

It looked as though all the fight had gone from the Wolverine. Hank let go of him and quickly stepped back from him. Logan rushed to his feet and looked between Hank and Ororo. Finally, his eyes settled on me. They didn't seem to register that I was in nothing but a towel, which I was grateful for. It might have had something to do with the fact that my claws were still popped and I was still ready for a fight.

"Listen, Becca—"

"Don't call me that," I snapped at him. My parents had called me that, and it was still a sore spot.

"Fine, Rebecca, listen," he tried again, throwing up his hands and letting them fall back to his side. "Look, Ro's right. I was in the wrong here, I'm sorry. I forgot how easy ya are to provoke." He snorted. "Hell, I'm easy to provoke, too. I have temper tantrums like a toddler sometimes. I didn't mean it, honest." He paused, watching me. I didn't relent my position. "We gotta work together, Rebecca. We're on the same team here. I gotta remember that, no matter how much ya piss me off." He placed his hands on his hips, breathing heavily for a moment as he kept staring at me. "'Sides, I just came here to bond with ya 'r some shit, remember?"

I chuckled a bit at that, a sound that was unexpected. It was very short and a sound I wouldn't usually make. It was a bit deeper than how I usually laughed, but considering the circumstances, I thought it was quite fitting.

Hank and Ororo stared at me, a bit worried for a moment. Finally, I retracted all of my claws except the middle one on my right hand. I was still chuckling as I raised it to Logan.

I saw the smile break his face as he started laughing, unable to contain it. "Right," he said after he composed himself. He turned and started to leave, but looked back to me. "Sorry 'bout your door."

"Sorry 'bout your head," I countered.

I heard him laugh as he disappeared into the hallway. I retracted my last claw and was left facing Ororo and Hank. I could've sworn that if Hank could blush, he would have. He turned to examine the door.

"You should still be able to close it tonight," he said quickly, as if he didn't want to acknowledge the fact that I was in nothing but a towel. "But we'll have someone come and make repairs tomorrow."

I nodded. I saw Ororo rubbing her forehead. She met my gaze, then shook her head.

"Well, I'm glad that was at least cleared up," she said. "Logan is far too unpredictable for my taste." She looked back up at me. "Remember, it's not your fault."

I nodded.

"All right, then," Ororo said, turning to see Hank was still tinkering with the door. "Good night, Rebecca." She gave me a smile.

"Good night, Ororo, Hank," I said, nodding to the both of them.

They both left, Hank carefully shutting the door behind them. At least it did shut. I sighed and sat on the end of my bed, wondering if there was any way I'd get any sleep tonight after all the commotion.


	12. An Unexpected Arrival

**Chapter Twelve**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^ This semester's coming to an end, so I'm hoping I'll be able to write some more in this chapter as well as my Marauder Era story for the HP world.

I'm not overly happy with this chapter, but I needed it to get the story on the path that I want it to go down. I apologize for the crappiness. ^_^

* * *

I decided it would be better if I kept my head down for the next week or so. I didn't talk to too many people besides Hank, Ororo, and Logan. The Wolverine was a bit nervous around me at first, and I around him as well. Day two after the incident, he had just entered the kitchen when I was making myself a sandwich. I had glanced up when he entered, and I immediately felt the tension rising.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Hey, Rebecca," he said.

I nodded in recognition.

He scratched the back of his head as he watched me for a moment more. "I'm sorry again," he said. "I have… a bit of a temper problem."

"I know, Logan," I said, forgetting my sandwich for a second so I could meet his gaze for the briefest of seconds. With my nerves being on edge, it was harder for me to control my abilities, especially my telepathy. "It's okay. Don't mention it, really."

After that, things seemed to ease between us. He even invited me to go work out with him at the local gym.

"Whenever you feel comfortable, of course," he had added quickly.

"Why d'you want me to go with you?"

Honestly, I was a bit curious.

He shrugged. "It gets boring going alone," he said. "Hank doesn't like to go for, well… obvious reasons. Ro's not really into that kind've stuff. The kids are outta the question to take with me." He snorted. "Plus, all the guys there are pretty into themselves. I'm not much of a people person to begin with, so let's just say there's not much chatting happenin'."

I chuckled a bit. "I'll let you know when I wanna come with you, Wolverine."

When I spent time with Ororo, it was mostly talking about things. Girl things, the people around the mansion, my feelings on a number of different subjects (the part where I usually stopped talking so much), as well as helping me to learn control over my powers.

Sometimes I felt like I she wanted me to reveal too much of myself. I never opened up much, only a few words here and there. I didn't want to relive anything in my past over again.

"Talk about traumatic things helps, Rebecca," she told me.

"Well, it won't help me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because when I talk about it, it always makes me feel worse. I'm not a masochist. I don't enjoy the pain."

After the stern look I had given her the morning after the incident with Logan, she had stopped trying to get me to open up about my past, especially my parents. We worked on controlling my powers instead. It seemed to be helping, but some days they just felt out of control.

Hank, on the other hand, wanted to talk to me about academics. He wanted to help prepare me for the GRE exam, and began asking me what my favorite subjects in school had been. I told him English, and he had seemed slightly disappointed. I told him I had liked Chemistry, but my math skills had never been too good. I told him all I enjoyed about Biology was the animal kingdom.

"And," I admitted shyly, "genetics."

He had been delighted to hear that. He made me do about a thousand (maybe a slight exaggeration) Punnett squares with differing variables to see what I remembered. Apparently, my memory of that was near perfection, as he wanted me to start reading the harder genetics texts that night instead of my favored literature. I took one or two to appease him. He said he wanted to talk about at least one of them the next day.

We did. I found the discussion a little bit fun. I told him what I had gotten from the book, a study in early Mendelian genetics, and then proceeded with a summary of the next book, which had discussed how far science has come from Mendel. He beamed at me.

"You know, genetics isn't the only thing that will be on the exam," I told him when he tried to bog me down with more genetics books.

He gave me a sheepish look and sighed. "Of course not," he said. "I was… a bit over exuberant, I suppose. No one else in the mansion enjoys nor understands genetics as myself. It's refreshing to hear that someone else has an interest in it."

I nodded in understanding. "Maybe we can work on some math problems tomorrow?" I suggested. "Like I said, it's not really my strong suit."

Hank nodded. "Of course. I will pick out some books for us to work with for tomorrow."

As I bid Hank good night, I felt his eyes upon me all the way out the door. It wasn't a piercing stare, but a lofty one. I couldn't really place it. This only concerned me enough until I got back to my room, where my next book that I had picked out from the mansion's library, _The Sound and the Fury_, awaited me.

* * *

It was the beginning of week two when Hank approached me outside of the kitchen, Logan and Ororo following closely behind. They all looked solemn, and it had me a bit worried.

"Rebecca," Hank said, his voice soft and kind, "we need to talk to you about something."

I gave them a concerned look. "All right," I answered slowly. "Is… everything okay?"

Before Hank could answer, a knock sounded upon the door. The teachers gave one another a look before Logan turned around to answer it. We all watched him from the end of the hallway as he did so. He blocked the man mostly from view, but I could hear what was going on. So, I assumed, could Hank.

Logan sized the man up. "Can I help you?"

"Logan," the man said, sounding relieved and happy, "it's so nice to see you again." The man had a British accent, and his voice sounded kindly enough. It obviously had a profound effect on Logan, for he took a step back from the stranger.

"Charles?" Logan asked.

I saw the man nod before taking a step into the mansion. With the sun not whiting his features and frame out, I got my first glimpse of a man I had known to be dead. He was tall, young-looking, perhaps in his thirties. He had a full head of dark brown hair that was combed off to one side, looking trimmed and neat. His skin was pale, as if he had been hidden from the sun for a good while. His body was slim, covered in a tailored pinstripe suit. His shoes were black and polished thoroughly.

I noticed Hank, to my left, take a step forward before stopping to stare in disbelief. Ororo put a hand over her mouth. Her mind told me she recognized the professor's smile anywhere.

That was when the man met my eyes. I felt him enter my mind, and I let him. He smiled at me.

"Rebecca," he said.

"Professor Xavier?" I asked, unable to think of anything else.

He nodded. By this time, Logan had shut the door. Now he was standing to the side of Xavier, making his way to the man's front so he could look at him better. Xavier was patient, standing with his hands crossed in front of him.

"Charles?" Logan asked again. "Is it really you?" He reached out a hand a grabbed Xavier by his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "It's you, right?"

"Yes, Logan," Xavier said.

At this point, Ororo gave a small cry and rushed forward. Logan stood by as the weather witch threw her arms around the professor and held him tightly. Hank began to move forward as well. By the time he got to the group, Xavier was able to hold out his hand so he could shake Hank's. Ororo, however, didn't look like she was letting him go anytime soon.

I didn't care anymore why Hank, Ororo, and Logan had wanted to speak to me. I was far more concerned with the scene in front of me. It was so… strange, this reunion. There were so many emotions flying around at once, it was hard to follow any of them at all. Finally, Ororo asked the question everyone, I knew, had been thinking.

"But how did you do this, Charles?"

Xavier made a motion, and everyone paused. "Let us all go to my office," he said. "We shall discuss this there."

Ororo released him so that he could move forward. He was graceful in his walking, and confident. As he walked past me, he reached out to touch my shoulder. Not truly knowing why, I turned and walked beside him.

"I'm glad to know that you finally came here, Rebecca," Xavier said to me, his voice quiet. "I was concerned that you wouldn't find us."

"I saw this place on the news," I said.

He inclined his head. "I am its founder."

"I know," I said. "Everyone's missed you. I feel…" I paused. "I feel like I know you already, professor."

"Please, call me Charles." He smiled congenially. "Perhaps it is because my memory has been so well preserved. However, you may note that I am no longer bound to my chair."

I had noticed, but I hadn't wanted to say anything. Instead, I bobbed my head once.

Xavier knew exactly where he was going, and lead us to the office I knew to be Ororo's. It was the same one that I had come to when I had first arrived here. He opened the door and allowed himself entrance, then held it open for the rest of us. It was still early in the morning, so we had run across no students on the way here. I had a feeling Xavier wanted it that way. He shut the door after everyone had come in, and motioned to everyone to have a seat. He remained standing, and so did Logan. The three teachers were staring at him, still shocked.

Somehow, I could not feel the same shock that they could. Mine was more of a confused state of awe for this man, who had known so much about me when I had never met him, who had wanted me as comfortable as possible upon my imminent arrival at his school, who wanted to shelter and help me as best he could. I felt that I could trust him because the others spoke so highly of him.

This feeling was disturbing to me. I had trusted no one so easily before. I had been on my guard every moment of everyday that I had been at the mansion, despite my best efforts to appear at ease. I knew Logan picked up on it, perhaps Hank, too. Xavier, though, touched my shoulder within moments of meeting me, and I didn't shy away from him. I allowed him entrance into my mind without ever being sure it was him and spoke what was on my mind to him only within minutes of his arrival. This man had a strange calming effect. I was wary of my emotions. I did not want them to betray me.

Once everyone was settled, Xavier began to pace a little. I supposed he was still enamored of his ability to move.

"I apologize for keeping all of you in suspense for so long," he said matter-of-factly. Hinted in his tone was also sincerity. I watched him carefully as he moved back and forth in front of his captive audience. "As you all know, Jean was very powerful. She did not mean to do what she did."

"We've all come to terms with what Jean did, Charles," Ororo said quietly.

Xavier nodded before continuing. "I was able to keep my mind intact when my body was forcefully decomposed. I quickly found refuge in a man who was unable to keep his own mind. This young man, whose body I now occupy, suffered a severe blow to the head during a car accident some years ago. He was in a coma for a year and was never expected to recover. He had no family known to him as he was never identified." He paused, looking at the floor with a sad expression. "No one ever came in to claim him."

There was a drawn out silence in the room as everyone absorbed this information. Xavier then said, "I found him to be more than suitable for my needs. He had no mind left to speak of, so I filled that gap for him. When I awoke, the nurse recognized my voice, my demeanor. She told me what had happened to the young man, and I explained to her what had happened to me. She was most willing to help." He allowed the briefest of smiles to cross his face. "So, here I am before you, after a few months of rehabilitation of this new body."

He sighed. "It may take you all some getting used to, as I know it took for me," he said. "But I think you'll quite like this new me." He smirked. "Now, as for how to introduce this to the students…"

"Charles, I don't think they will care," Hank said. "I think they will be more than happy to know that you're alive and well."

"If it helps, we can explain it to them in their classes today," Ororo suggested. "This way, they will not all try to mob you at once when they see you." She gave a tentative grin.

Xavier nodded in his approval. "Please do so."

After a lingering moment of silence, Xavier clapped his hands together. "Well, it is a new day," he said, "and the students will begin to awaken any moment now. Tell them they will meet me at dinner tonight."

Hank and Ororo rose from their seats. They and Logan began to file past Xavier, each giving a nod. Ororo held his hand for a moment.

"Thank you for taking care of them while I was away, Ororo," Xavier said, gripping her hand for a moment longer. "You will always have my undying gratitude for everything you've done for them and this school."

"It was my pleasure, Charles," Ororo said, slowly letting her hand fall from his grip.

Just a moment or two later, the door was closed, and Xavier and I were left alone in the still room.

He turned to me then and said, "Perhaps you will indulge me, Rebecca, and stay with me today so that we might get to know one another."

"Sure."

How could I refuse?


	13. Conversations

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

It was silent for a few moments, with me not knowing what to say. Xavier found my words for me.

"How have you been, Rebecca?"

"To be honest, pretty crappy until I got here," I said, leaning back in the chair I sat in.

I watched as he chuckled quietly, then began to walk over to the chair behind his desk. He ran his fingertips over the leather arm, obviously remembering things. This chair would not have been there before, I realized- he would not have needed it. He was admiring it, I guessed, before he finally sat in it.

"And how have my staff been treating you?"

"Very well, thanks."

He nodded, his hands running over the beautifully stained wood of his desk now.

"Professor?" I asked.

"Charles, please," he said, only lifting his eyes so that he could look at me. He kept his head tilted toward the desk.

"Charles," I said, trying again, "you weren't telling them the whole truth, were you?"

He lifted his head so he could look at me squarely.

"Why didn't you tell them how you managed to keep your mind together?" I wasn't accusatory, but curious; he understood.

"Because I do not know myself, Rebecca," he answered. "I have only a theory, but it is just that. I didn't wish to bog them down with anymore questions."

I scoffed. "Well, having been here for a couple of weeks, it's clear that Hank would've at least enjoyed the questions as long as they were scientific."

Xavier smiled. "I suppose he would."

"I'd like to hear your theory."

"I assumed you would," he said. "My theory, the only one I could come up with, was though Jean's powers were strong, they were not as focused as she wanted them to be."

"Who's Jean?" I interrupted. "I… I keep hearing about her. Passing thoughts in peoples' minds. I see her, but I don't know who she is."

"Jean Grey was the doctor in residence at the school," Xavier explained with merely a nod of his head. "She was a very brilliant young woman, a telepath with telekinetic tendencies. However, she had another side to her, a darker side that I had helped her manage to maintain for many years, since she was a little girl. This side was called Phoenix." He paused. "Phoenix did not enjoy being forgotten."

All of this was said in a matter-of-fact tone, but Xavier's eyes were pained. I couldn't bear to look at them for more than a few moments. I didn't want to see what this man was thinking.

"Phoenix slowly began to take hold of Jean," Xavier continued. "Soon, Jean was consumed by Phoenix, so she was no longer there. Magneto, who I'm sure you've seen on the television, coerced Phoenix to his side, to fight against me."

"Magneto… the guy that can bend metal?" I asked.

Xavier nodded.

"He's the bad guy," I said, smirking. "He got shot with the cure on that fight on Alcatraz."

Xavier nodded again.

"Got what he deserved, then."

"I suppose so," Xavier said. "Magneto convinced Phoenix to turn against me. When I went to help her, he told her I was holding back her potential. In her anger, she destroyed my body, but not my mind. I imagine it had something to do with her anger at the moment, her lack of discipline. This was something Phoenix had a problem with, but not Jean. My theory is, along with Phoenix's lack of concentration, I was able to keep my mind together instead of having it be destroyed as well. However, I honestly will never be able to answer the question of what really happened to me."

I nodded. "What happened to Jean?"

"She was killed, along with Phoenix."

"How?"

"Jean was still within Phoenix. She practically begged for Phoenix to be destroyed, so it could do harm to no one else she cared for. Logan was the one who killed her, even though it pained him to do so. I had always noticed how fond of Jean he was. He was the only one who was able to survive long enough to actually get to her, which is why only he could have killed her."

I nodded. All of this information was strange and terrible in so many ways. I was much more able to understand things as they were in the mansion, now. It made me understand the many thoughts that were running rampant through the staff and students' minds.

Xavier allowed me a few quiet minutes of contemplation before stating, "Hank had some news for you when I interrupted. I apologize."

I shrugged. "I'm not sure if I wanted to hear it, really."

He placed two fingers on the side of his head, then propped his elbow on the arm of his chair. "He has been doing research for you."

"You pick up a lot within a couple of minutes."

"It was at the forefront of his mind," he said. "It was hard not to. In fact, I'm surprised you did not."

"I've been… trying to keep my powers at bay, especially that one."

"You're not still having trouble with them, are you?"

He was sitting up straight in his chair now. This was definitely of some interest to him.

"It's hard to control all of them," I said. "Especially the telepathy—it seems like it's been getting stronger recently. The rest of them have all but disappeared… except my original powers."

"Your regenerative abilities and heightened senses are your originals?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I suppose they were supposed to help with the bone claws… but I'm sure you know all about those." When he nodded, I continued. "Those stay the same, always. It's always my telepathy that gets stronger when…"

"When you're about to get another power?" Xavier finished for me.

"It's… painful," I said, my voice suddenly weak. I drew my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. I stared at my bare feet.

Neither of us spoke for a long time. Finally, it was my turn to break the silence.

"What d'you think Hank wanted to talk to me about?"

"I think that would be an appropriate question to ask him later on tonight," Xavier said. "Until then, would you like to walk with me around the grounds? I'm still trying to exercise as much as possible. My legs are rather weak."

"Yeah, I don't mind," I said, standing.

* * *

Spending the day with Xavier wasn't awkward. We walked slowly through the grounds. He showed me the gardens that the students kept up. All the flowers were beautiful at this time of year. I sniffed them as he named them, and they all smelled as wonderful as they looked. He showed me the graves of Jean and Scott Sommers, who was her fiancé. I let him have a few moments of peace with them alone as I wandered about the gardens surrounding the graves.

We returned to the mansion for lunch, where the students began to "mob" him, just as Ororo had said they would. Xavier took it all in stride. I watched from the entrance to the kitchen as the hundred or so children and young adults grinned and laughed around him. Xavier's face was so stretched from smiling so much, I thought it might rip in half. He hugged each student, even picking a few of the younger, smaller ones up for a moment to do so. He looked like he belonged. It was touching, in a way, even if I was only an onlooker.

"It'll take some gettin' used to," Logan said suddenly from beside me. "We all remember Chuck bein' in that chair, with less hair, and lookin' a bit older."

I shrugged. "I think this new body suits him pretty well." I nodded toward him. "It looks like he's always wanted to do what he's doing now."

Logan grunted in confirmation. "Probably. Chuck always did like the kids."

"I would hope so. Isn't that why he opened up the school?"

Logan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. At this point, Hank entered the kitchen. He smiled at me.

"I didn't see you sitting in classes today, Rebecca," he said. "Where were you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Walking the grounds with Xav—Charles. He said he needed exercise."

Hank nodded. "Yes, if his new body had been in a coma for that long, his muscles would have begun to atrophy. The exercise is good for him." He took in a breath and looked toward the group. "Well, I'm going to get some lunch before everyone else gets there first." He started to walk away.

"Hank?"

I stopped him in his tracks. He looked back, still smiling. I could only wish his overwhelming happiness would take over my own worried thoughts.

"D'you think we could talk after dinner?" I asked. "You'd wanted to tell me something."

His face fell. "Well, Rebecca, I'm not sure if tonight would be so—"

"Hank, it's something important, I know it is," I interrupted. "Please don't keep things from me."

Hank stared at me sadly, taking in another deep breath. He let it out slowly before speaking. "All right," he said. "I'll gather everyone again, including Charles—he'll want to hear this, too." He began to reach a hand out to put on my shoulder. I tried not to cringe, but I suppose I did, because he stopped. "I will get you when we're ready tonight, Rebecca."

He gave me a fleeting look, one that showed the hurt that I had inadvertently caused.

"Goddamnit," I said under my breath.

I realized Logan was still standing next to me, watching our exchange. He pursed his lips for a second, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood up straight. "Grab some lunch and meet me out in the hall, Rebecca."

He left the kitchen. I wasn't feeling very hungry, but I knew I'd be starving by the time dinner came around and my stomach would hate me. That, and if I was actually gaining another power sometime soon, I'd need the energy. So, while the kids were still amazed by Xavier's new body, I grabbed a couple of sandwiches and a handful of chips before retreating to the hallway.

Logan was there, waiting, like he said. He nodded down the hall, where he led me outside again. There was a garden Xavier hadn't taken to me: the shrubs had grown large here, in a circular pattern. There were two stone benches in the alcove the circular shrubs made. I sat on one, beginning to eat my food rather absently. Logan sat on the other one and faced me.

"I wanted to talk to ya about Hank," he said.

"Okay."

He stared at me for a few moments, as if I was supposed to have an epiphany.

"…what about him?" I finally asked.

He blinked at me. "Are ya really that dense?"

I had a sandwich half-way to my mouth, but it stopped so that I could blink back at Logan. "Dense?"

He put a hand to his forehead. "I guess so."

I put my sandwich, suddenly really not hungry. "Why did you tell me to get food if this conversation was gonna be upsetting?"

"How do you know it's gonna be upsetting?"

"Well, whenever someone calls me dense, it usually doesn't end well," I said. "So spit it out, Logan, what am I dense about?"

"Hank."

"I gathered that, but it's not helping my denseness. Care to elaborate?"

He sighed. "Ororo told me the memory you saw in my head that night last week," he said. "The one where I was talkin' to her about Hank. Remember?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"The line, 'He's gettin' attached' ringin' a bell?"

I glared at the ground.

"I'm not sure why, Rebecca, but Hank's takin' a liking to you," Logan continued. "Probably that brain of yours. He's always talking about how smart you are to Ro and me."

I didn't want to hear anymore. I stood up, snatching up my plate of food. Logan stood, but he didn't make a motion to stop me as I left the garden to go back to my room. After I ate my food, I read the books that I had accumulated from the library. I forced myself not to think anymore, immersing myself in fiction.


	14. Revealing the Results

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** Just to let everyone know, I'm going to go through this chapter strictly from Rebecca's point of view. So as not to bore anyone with what Hank has already explained, much of the information from Chapter 10 will be glanced over in light of new information. From Rebecca's POV, the events that are taking place will have happened very quickly. Though she understands them, it's all a lot for her to take in, as the results are fairly traumatic.

In other news, I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

I found myself in the lab that night. Hank had spoken to me through my closed door until I had come out. He was very adamant in what he wanted to tell me, but he needed to do it in the lab, so he could show me everything, so I could understand better. I agreed, though I wasn't happy about it.

I was glaring at Logan when he entered, and then I didn't pay any more attention to him. Charles sat to my left and Ororo was to my right. Logan was in the back, as usual. Hank was at the front of the room, and began speaking.

Much of what he said made complete sense to me, but by the end, I already knew what was coming. He talked about my x-gene; it was broken, in a way, he said. It was confused. My x-gene was linked to my hypothalamus, my pituitary gland: I was in a constant state of puberty. Because of this, I was in a constant state of getting new powers.

Hank asked me questions: "How are your sleeping patterns?"

"Irregular," I told him.

"Your eating habits?"

"I eat all the time," I said, furrowing my brows. This wasn't looking good.

Hank paused a moment and cleared his throat. "Your menstrual cycles?"

I stared back at him evenly, knowing he was making a point. "They've been irregular since I started my period," I said calmly.

He told me this had to do with my circadian cycles being thrown off balance by my pituitary gland. It only supported his claims. I nodded, and he continued.

"I made a few calls on your behalf to some friends I have in the science community," Hank said. "I explained my theory to them, and they all agreed that the logic is sound."

I was growing uncomfortable sitting there under so much scrutiny.

"Is there a point to all this, Hank?" I asked quietly, staring at the floor, my arms still crossed over my chest.

"I'll try to move quickly, Rebecca, I apologize," Hank said. He moved along. "I sent them some of your DNA, so they could look at it as I looked at it. We came to the same conclusions."

I was beginning to shake. I felt the bad news coming, and I wanted him to put me out of my misery. I managed to look up at Hank, and I saw him looking at me sadly. Ororo put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. I did not want to be touched.

"They and I noticed a… mutation to one of the genes," Hank said. "This, we could only assume, is the gene that the x-gene is connected to. We think that this is the reason why your x-gene is still in effect, so to speak. There were also mutations found along the DNA structure, mostly in the regions that are in charge of forming the organs of the body…"

There was a reigning silence in the lab. I hated it. I stared directly at Hank, and he stared back at me.

"I get it, Hank," I said, sounding more tired than I desired to. "I get it. I'm fucked up. Tell me what this _means_."

Hank took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There has never been a case like you in history, Rebecca," he said. "Many of my friends wanted to know who you were, so they could produce you to scientific magazines as their findings. I told them no, obviously, and that I needed your help—you needed their help. They listened, and gave me their opinions, which were various."

He looked at me as he sat down in front of me. He watched me for a while before he continued. "One stated his opinion based off the effects you have when you gain a new power," he said. "He told me he believed that you would continue to gain powers until your brain could no longer take it. From there, you would have a nervous break-down and be reverted to a comatose state."

I merely blinked at him. My fingers dug in deeper to the skin on my arm.

"Another had a similar theory, however he said that instead of going into a comatose state, your brain would… be unable to function any longer, your heart would explode, and you would die."

"Cheerful," I muttered.

"There was another who said your brain would have no problem encompassing all of the powers," Hank said, ignoring my comment. He looked distraught for me, by this point. "He said that you would be able to live fairly normally, aside from the pain during the actual gaining of a new power."

"Did anyone else wanna take a stab at my brain?" I growled.

"Just two more, Rebecca, I promise," Hank said.

"Give 'em to me quick, Hank," I said through clenched teeth. I could feel my pulse rising. I felt enclosed in this space. I wanted to get out. I felt my forehead begin to sweat. This was not a good sign.

"Another scientist said you would reach a certain point where you would gain no new powers anymore," Hank said, his pace quickened. He had noticed my anxious state. "He said you would 'grow out of it.'"

"What do you think?" I asked, my fingernails finally breaking the skin on my arm. It healed over almost instantaneously.

"I believe that you will keep gaining powers until your brain can no longer handle it, but it will restart, much like a computer," Hank told me honestly, quietly. "This could be either good or bad. It depends on if you lose any powers in the process, and if you do, which ones. If you lost your regenerative capabilities, your body would be unable to support your adamantium bones. If it kept those powers, then you would proceed as you had been before: gaining powers until your brain had to reset."

"And that would happen for the rest of my life?"

He nodded.

"Well, let's hope it's that one or the other one where I don't die a horrible death," I said, standing. The chair made a terrible screeching noise as I pushed it out from under me.

"I hope so, as well," Hank said, his voice a whisper.

"I have to go now," I said, turning to exit the increasingly hotter lab.

"Rebecca, are you all right?" I heard Charles' voice from behind me.

"I'll be fine," I said quickly. "Just don't bug me for a few hours. I'll be fine."

I heard Hank turn to them just before the door shut behind me. "She's gaining another power," he said. "It's best to leave her be."


	15. Understanding the Animal: Part One

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** Wow, I've been obviously terribly neglectful. Sorry, everyone, I lost touch with this story as I've been working on getting my GPA up so I can apply to graduate school once I get my bachelor's degree (in two more semesters!). Work, school, I'm sure most of you know the drill. Here's hoping that I can actually finish something that I've started. _

In other news, I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^ And yes, this chapter has been put up again with some editorial revisions because I'm weird.

And just in case you can't tell, this chapter is from Logan's point of view.

* * *

I'd been listening to Rebecca pace in her room for two hours straight, now. Tell the truth, it was annoying. She had told us all to just leave her alone. I thought Hank or at least Charles would ignore the request, but so far I hadn't heard a single person walk anywhere near her door.

I couldn't help but admit that her silence had me worried. If gaining a new power for her was as painful as it sounded, why wasn't she making any noise? Was it not at the stage for it yet? Was she trying to be quiet for the benefit of everyone in the mansion? The questions were hard to answer, considering I had no idea.

I turned my face toward the open window so I could blow my cigar smoke out. I'd been sitting on the windowsill for the last few minutes, hoping the night sounds would drown out the pacing.

"Drivin' me up a wall, kid," I growled.

I put out the cigar in the ashtray I kept. Using it was a better alternative to the back of my hand.

There was a scream. There was no question where it came from. It was a cry of pain, something an animal would have made if it was dying. I heard rushed footsteps—someone running. Hank's footsteps. I growled, making my way across my room, out in the hall and toward Rebecca's room. She wouldn't be happy, being seen in a position of weakness.

When I got into the room, Rebecca was on the floor in the fetal position with Hank standing over her, approaching her carefully. She was gritting her teeth, and I could hear a low growl escaping from her throat. She was glaring at Hank.

"Hank, what're ya doin'?" I asked him. "She doesn't want anyone's help."

He was getting closer to her. I didn't know what the fuck he thought he was doing. I reached for him, but Hank waved me off, intent on her.

"She's not the one in charge right now, Hank," I said. "Yer the one that's puttin' her there. It's her mind's response to a stressful situation."

I knew all about that, having to separate the animal from the man myself more than a few times. It was difficult, something that was a hard habit to break. She used it to protect herself, had used it so much for so many years it was second nature to her. I had, too.

I heard someone approaching the still open doorway behind me. Growling, I whipped around. It was Charles and Ororo. I turned back to what was happening in front of me just as Rebecca grabbed onto Hank's hand and pulled. He didn't expect her strength. Hank was knocked off balance, pitching forward, and suddenly she had an arm around his throat. She was choking him, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

Charles stepped forward, then.

"Rebecca," he said sternly, and she looked up at him.

Obviously there was some Jedi mind trick stuff happening, because she let Hank go as soon as her eyes met Charles'. Hank gasped, but got himself away from her. I helped him up and watched what happened.

"You're safe," Charles said. "No one here will harm you."

"I know that now," she said calmly.

"Go to sleep," Charles said.

And she did, right where she was on the floor. I stared at him.

"Have you ever done that to me?"

"I've never had to," he said, watching Rebecca as she slept. "She will be all right for now, but I'm unsure how she'll fair when she wakes up. She won't be happy with herself for attacking you, Hank."

"Yeah, well, he shouldn't a been in here to begin with," I growled.

"I know," Hank said, rubbing at his throat. "I heard her scream. I thought I could help."

I shook my head. Charles looked at me.

"You understand what keeps happening to her," he said.

I nodded. "It happened to me."

"It's not a situation like Jean's."

It might have been a question, but the way he said it, I was certain it wasn't meant to be. He was hoping Rebecca wasn't another Phoenix on top of everything that she was already going through.

"No," I said. "It's somethin' that she's got that helps her with situations she can't handle. Another side of her—something that is her, but isn't. It's her animal side."

"Coyote," Ororo said, understanding.

I nodded. "Just like I have Wolverine, she has Coyote," I said.

"It makes sense, understanding her past," Ororo continued. "And her ancestry."

"Blackfeet," Charles said.

"Yes," Ororo answered, nodding. "She reverts to the animal that she considers her medicine, because he's the one who is destined to protect her."

Charles looked relieved. "It is all in her mind, then," he said. "Perhaps it is why she is having such a hard time controlling her powers, particularly her telepathy. She has to learn not to section off her animal from herself. She must learn that they are one in the same."

He looked to me.

"I'm not anywhere near perfect to be teachin' her somethin' like that, Chuck, and you know it," I said, raising my hands. I wasn't anyone's teacher. Hell, I could barely take care of myself sometimes.

"You are the only one who has had to deal with almost the exact same experiences as she," Charles said. "You know what it is like to have to fight another part of you, the part that you have developed to protect yourself, the part that you revert to when you feel like you cannot handle anything in your life anymore. I cannot help her control her powers until she understands the way her mind works. Logan, please, you must help her."

I looked at Rebecca lying on the ground and then looked to Hank, who was watching her. He looked at me. He didn't seem too thrilled by the idea of me helping her. He'd become something like a mentor to her since she'd showed up. As 'Ro and I had talked about before, I also thought he wanted that mentor relationship to go to another level. That was also having an effect on him—that was clear in the way he watched her.

He'd have to get over it. It's not like I was trying to steal away his protégé. She clearly wasn't ready, either, for any type of romantic relationship. Hank was smart enough to know that.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll help her. I don't promise any results, but I'll try."

Charles smiled at me. "Thank you, Logan."

Hank left the room quickly.

"He's upset about his actions tonight," Charles said after Hank had gone.

"You dunno the half of it," I muttered, making my way from the room, too.


	16. Understanding the Animal: Part Two

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for my own personal character.

**Author's Note:** Another chapter! I'm trying to be more awesome and regular with my updates now. I hope I can maintain it.

In other news, I like reviews. They make me happy. ^_^

* * *

The next morning, before I could do anything, Logan took me to the gym. So there I was, in a terrible mood with an almost migraine-like headache and aching muscles, at the gym. With normal people. People who probably had no idea we were mutants. Or, if they did, they didn't look at us. That was probably for the better.

"You should've let me stay and apologize to Hank, at least," I grumbled as we walked through the large, open room filled with workout equipment.

Logan shook his head. "Hank's a little angry at himself right now," he said. "We thought it might be better if we let you both work off some steam. Hank doesn't like bein' too much in the public eye anymore."

"Yeah, but, I could've killed him."

"Apologies can come later, Becca."

"Just call me Becky if you need to shorten my name," I growled, shooting him a look. "My parents called me Becca."

He jerked his head, showing that he understood. He pointed to the bench-press.

"Saddle up," he said.

I gave a heavy sigh before dropping onto the bench, knowing that there would be no arguing with him. I wished I would argue with him, but it felt like I didn't have the strength to. I was too busy being angry at myself.

Logan started me off easy, to get me warmed up: a hundred pounds.

"Do five sets of ten," he said.

I started to work as he spotted me. A couple of people watched me from the corner of their eyes, I knew. Their body language told me everything I needed to know. That, and a few of the men were thinking about me. This was a predominantly male gym, I noticed as soon as we had walked in. It didn't bother me as much as it once would have. The knowledge that I could beat each of them in a fight was a comfort, I suppose.

"So, you know what power you got?" he asked as he watched me lift the weight above my head a couple of times.

"No, I didn't have time to check," I said, my voice sounding fairly normal.

He nodded.

"You've got a problem I used to have—that I still have if I'm not careful," he said. "You use Coyote as a way to defend your mind against situations you think you won't be able to handle. That's what Wolverine was to me for a while."

"Why would Coyote choke Hank?" I asked, getting a bit defensive of my other half. She had helped me in times of need one too many times for me to consider her a problem.

I set the weights on their stand and Logan went to put on a hundred more pounds.

"He got too close to ya," Logan said as he added the weight. "That's what set you off. It's different for me, but we react in the same ways."

He pointed to the new weight. "Same thing."

I laid back down and started working on my sets. "I don't see why you're so concerned anyway."

"Charles wants me to help you learn to control Coyote. You've gotta do that before he can help you with yer powers."

"Whatever," I said, finishing the first set. "I don't think there's anything wrong."

"Yer kiddin' me, right?" Logan asked, hands on his hips as he watched me complete my sets. "I know yer not stupid, Becky, so don't even try that crap on me."

I stayed quiet. I was trying to fool myself, and I knew it. Logan didn't say a word, but watched me silently, fuming. This went on until I was done with the two-hundred pounds. Without asking, he added on another hundred pounds. I could feel everyone openly watching us now.

"Lift it," Logan all but growled at me.

I did. I put all my frustrations into lifting that bar with those weights on it. It felt light as the air around me. Everyone was staring, but I blocked them out, focusing just on the way my muscles moved and forced the heavy object farther above me before bringing down in a controlled manner toward my chest. I set the weights back up and turned to Logan. Around us, the room had quieted. I rolled my eyes and turned to the men in the room.

"What?" I asked them, raising my voice.

They stared back at me for a moment before going back to their own business. I turned back to Logan, who had an eyebrow raised.

"How do I train myself out of this defense mechanism?" I asked.

"You gotta learn to recognize the signs before you start to let Coyote take over," he said. "What did you feel last night right before Coyote took over?"

I thought about it, long and hard, for some very long, tense moments. I nodded finally.

"I remember feeling panicked."

"What else?"

"I was scared," I said, my fists clenching.

"Why were you scared?"

He was staring at me intently, as if trying to will me to remember, to tell him the truth..

"I felt weak," I said quietly. "I don't like that feeling—feeling like I can't protect myself."

He nodded. "Yeah. It's a shitty feeling."

"I was pacing, trying to make the anxiousness go away," I said. "Then the pain was too much, and I screamed. Suddenly Hank was there, and I was trying to get him to go away because I was panicking. I felt terrible, like I couldn't escape. He wouldn't leave me alone. That's when I don't remember much else—when she took over."

He nodded. "When you start to feel that, you need to try your best to stay in control. Try focusin' on somethin' in the room, somethin' that can ground you as Rebecca," Logan told me firmly. "I know what it's like. You want to give into Coyote—you want her to be able to help you, because you feel like she's stronger than you."

"Yeah, that's exactly what it feels like," I said. "How long have you had Wolverine?"

"Too long," Logan growled. "He tried to control me for too long. He's still there, sometimes, but we have a beneficial relationship now. He knows he's not supposed to be in control."

"So I have to teach Coyote that?"

Logan shrugged. "Somethin' like it, at least."

"I guess this is gonna take a while," I said.

"Probably. It took me a long time. I think here, though, it won't take you as long. It's hard to say. Charles wants to make sure that you're not separatin' your mind." He shrugged. "I dunno, it's somethin' you'll probably have to get him to explain to you."

"Thanks, Logan," I said. "This helped, really."

"Not a problem, Becky."

There was an amiable companionship about this whole thing, I thought. We were both fairly easy around one another. That feeling seemed to come over me a lot more recently when I was with anyone from the Institute.

"C'mon, it's your turn to spot me," he said, punching me lightly on the shoulder before sinking onto the bench.

I smirked. "All right, Logan, but I won't go so easy on ya."


End file.
